


The Rag tag Baratheon House

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Drama, Family, Humor, Modern AU, Multi, Weddings, slight homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 33,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2614388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the uptight Stannis plays foster parent to 5 Baratheon bastards, and manages not to fail spectacularly. Also featuring the Starks, the imp and a more-than-a-bit-psycho Cersei.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pancakes, boyfriends and absent fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Robert gets drunk, Gendry gets mad and Mya gets a boyfriend.

Stannis knows exactly who's pounding at his door at 2 in the bloody morning on a brand new Saturday just when he needs to sleep a little. Not that he was asleep. He pops his head into the corridor to see if the noise has woken the children, and runs down the stairs. 

His door would need rehinging soon enough.

He's absolutely right. It  _is_  Robert. Heaving and hollering and drunk beyond belief. The stiff uptight teetotalling side of the Stannis's psyche wonders how on Earth Robert can bear to get so drunk. On the other hand, the more considerate part of his mind tells him that even  _he'd_ be permanently drunk were he wed to Cersei Lannister. For 20 years. 

He watches passively as Robert heaves himself into the grey couch in the living room, retching and belching. He's not exactly quiet, and that irritates Stannis's sleep deprived brain. When drunk Robert seemed to forget that he hated Stannis on principle and that five of his unlucky bastards lived at Dragonstone house. The youngest was 5. The oldest, home from college. Also that children are not supposed to be woken up at two in the morning on Saturday. Especially when the not so much child among them just got home from Vale U three hours ago. 

"She is such a BITCH!" Robert says, emphasizing on the b word. Stannis frowns. "I'd rather if you didn't use offensive words in this household. I've got six children sleeping upstairs." "Bugger the brats." Robert grumbles, gulping down the water Stannis gets him. "Others take them all. And Cersei. Always Cersei." He half shudders half sobs. Throughout all the years Stannis had watched his brother getting drunk over his current wife and ex girlfriend, the one thing Stannis couldn't get was why Robert chose to stay with Cersei for so long. Cersei hated Robert, the feeling was mutual. Robert got drunk and spent the nights at Petyr Baelish's many brothels and night clubs all over the country, or crashed on someone's couch to sleep off the hangover. Mostly best man Ned's. Or Chief advisor Arryn's, some days Renly's, though not after that awful row that happened when Joffrey called Renly a fag. And Loras punched him.

He really didn't need to listen to Robert's bullshit about his psycho wife. Any other woman, and Stannis would have felt sorry for her. But no. Not for Cersei. She deserved hell. 

"Uncle Stan, is that Dad on the couch?" Shit. 

"Whossat?" Robert craned his neck. "Ah! Gendry, m'boy! C'mere an' give yer ol' man a hug." Except it wasn't Gendry. Stannis rubs his face.

"Go to sleep Edric. I'll be up in a minute." He doesn't have to look at the boy to imagine the look on his face. Times like these made him hate Robert Barratheon, brother or not. 

"that was Edric. The boy Renly looked after for a while." "Renly looking after one of my kids? Ha! Renly don' even talk to me." No, that was only after you and Cersei backed your son when he called our brother an offensive homophobic term referring to his sexuality. Which was crass of both of you. It was things like these that made Stannis glad he was the one doing the raising, not Robert himself. At least Gendry would never dare to use a word like that without severe provocation. And Edric would never say something remotely homophobic.

"Wha'ever. 'Rn't yer sleeping?" By now Robert sounds utterly Whoozy, as Mya would say. Stannis takes it as his cue to head back to his room, leaving Robert a pile of quivering flesh on his couch. Hopefully he'd be gone before the kids wake up in the morning. Stannis shoots a quick message to Jon Arryn, who, in Stannis's opinion should be given a raise for being Robert's permanent handler.

When he gets back to the landing, Edric is sniffling in his room. He knows better than to interrupt. 

When he gets back up at his ungodly hour, he finds Jon Arryn hauling Robert out of the couch. A bleary eyed Mya stands by the door, her face half repulsed half irritated.

"So sorry about this Stannis." Says Jon. "He got into a fight with Cersei again. Something about Joffrey and Tywin in the mix." Jon Arryn rarely apologizes for Robert's many inconvenient shenanigans. Strange.

Wait. Oh,right. Mya.

They watch Old man Arryn drive away with an almost hungover Robert in the back seat. It was surprising how much Mya took after him, Stannis. Or maybe it was just that stubborn look on their faces. Uncle and niece. Barratheon and Barratheon. Mya breaks the silence.

"We need pancakes."

Pancakes was what the Seaworth boys fondly called her, and it had more to do with the fact that Mya lived on the unofficial mantra "when in doubt, make pancakes." 

They'd come to dread the smell of pancakes in the morning. Not really. Mya made the best pancakes ever. 

"So, Chocolate for the small fry, syrup for you and Strawberry jam for Gendry. Oh and banana for me." Mya says, cracking an egg into a flour well. "I should really try out..."

They are interrupted by a loud thudding down the stairs. Gendry appears at the bottom wearing a scowl that could put Stannis to shame. "And morning to you too Bull." Says Mya brightly. "Pancakes?"

"He came around again, didn't he?" 

Stannis stares the boy down. "Gendry, we're not discussing this again."

Gendry hates Robert. With a vengeance. Something none of them can fault, really. Gendry's mum had been a college student when Robert had met her and the result had been chaotic for both his mum and Gendry. She'd died when he was seven. And Gendry had never forgiven Robert for that.

And before any of them can say anything else, Gendry grabs his coat and storms out of the house.

"Is he going out to kill someone?" Asks Shireen, making her appearance in the kitchen. "Oh, pancakes. Can I make one, Mya?" "No." "But..."

"Shireen please listen to your cousin for once."

"Why's Gendry out on the road trying to kill Stone?" 

Stone? Oh no.

"Gendry Barratheon get back here with my car this minute!" And the pancake is left burning on the skillet.

"Is it burn the pancake day today, or something?" Edric makes his way into the room and sniffs. "Gendry took out Mya's car and will prolly bash it on something." says Shireen as Stannis curses and pulls the skillet off the stove. And now, disaster management awaits. At some point the midgets will be down, half starved and sleepy; the youngest pair, 7 year old Ashara and five year old Varra. That point being, like, now. 

"Ooo Pancakes!" Varra's mum had barely been out of her teens and Stannis sometimes wonders how she'd have managed the ofttimes hyperactive Varra. Ashara  on the other hand, was solemn and smart for a seven year old. Stannis was hoping they could get the school to let her skip a year.

They were a rag tag bunch, yes. But regardless, they did look like quite the family, with their thick black curls and their stern eyes.Severely and sincerely Barratheon, unlike Robert's trio. Who were decidedly Lannister. At least, Joffrey was.

"Gods, I swear, I'm going to kill him one day. Oh shit! the pancakes! Thanks Uncle Stannis." Mya takes the skillet with easy grace. And plops her phone onto the table, next to Ashara. It emits a beep of protest. Scratch that. It was a message.

"Errr Mya? Who's Michel Redfort?"

Mya goes stiff, and they realize that another pancake is on the verge of burning. Stannis snatches the phone from Ashara's hand and reads the text. When he looks up, Mya is the colour of chalk.

"Mya, who is Michel Redfort?"

There's a short silence. "My boyfriend. Since term started." So three months.

"And why are we hearing about this only now?"

"Well last time I went on a date you and Uncle Renly two tagged him to the point he wouldn't look at me again!"

They didn't. But Stannis had this aura that terrified teenage boys off the ten mile radius of his niece. And Renly didn't look particularly friendly that evening either.

"You know we don't want you in a relationship with the wrong boy."

"How do you know he's the wrong boy? You haven't even met him."

"Mya, you're a two hour drive away from me and even further from Renly and King's Landing. A relationship with the wrong boy could be potentially dangerous. How old is the boy anyway?"

Mya mumbles something. "What was that?" 

"He's a fourth year."

"Oh. So he's older than you."

"Sandor Cleagane is 10 years older than Sansa Stark and has a huge burn on the side of his face. I don't hear the Starks complaining."

"Arya said Robb and Jon stalked him for three weeks straight and the three of them still follow Sansa on every date." 

Jon Stark was his intern at the firm. From what Lannister told him, he was probably the definition of over protective older brother. He could imagine.

"And I suppose Arya's keeping her love life perfectly under wraps from them? I wonder what Gendry's going to make of that."

Gendry. Oh, seven.

"Jon taught Arya to fight. She can pack a hell of a punch, unlike some girls we know..."

"Are you implying that I can't defend myself?" 

"If the cap fits..." Stannis decides to interrupt.

"That's enough. Edric, Shireen, stop goading Mya. You two, finish your breakfast, and Mya?" He pauses. 

"I'd like you to bring this... Michel Redfort over sometime soon, so we can go over certain limits together."

Oh Seven hells.

 

 


	2. Office gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jon Snow is the perfect intern, Cersei is a witch and Stannis contemplates on his nonexistent love life. Oh and everyone's favourite imp makes an appearance.

"Heard your door got pounded again, Barratheon. Did it survive?" Tyrion Lannister is an imp. A smug imp. Stannis has yet to meet a man who can drink so much and still ace a case at court while handling a massive hangover. Practice makes perfect, he supposes. Not that he wants to try.

"Do not even bother asking."

Stannis dislikes Lannisters on principle. But then again, Lannisters dislike Tyrion on principle. So they get along well enough. On the other hand, he has to talk to someone during christmas dinner at the Red Keep. A tedious business, since Renly decided not to turn up. (who could blame the poor boy?) And tense. Stannis does not enjoy leaving the children at home alone on christmas. And he certainly cannot bring them into Cersei's house. And Shireen didn't want to go without the others.

"I suppose Jon Arryn appeared before the kids woke up." 

"They heard anyway. He called Edric Gendry. That didn't go too well." He does not bother mentioning Gendry's morning hissy fit, or the perpetual sourness that had clung to him all weekend. The extra sullenness, if you will. 

Tyrion snorts. "And then you had a pancake party. As usual."

"Not so usual. Mya burnt the pancakes and we found that she's been seeing a boy from university. Ashara saw one of her texts."

Tyrion snorts. He was no callous soldier, but perhaps the whole concept of raising kids and living with them in one house eluded him. "Oh the joys of being unfettered and unwed." "Well not all of us can do that." "So you don't ever wonder what it would be like to be free? Any time, any place any woman? Oh and any amount of drink?"

"No."

"No?"

"If we were all drunk all the time and lecherous like Robert, what would the world come to? Not everyone can drink as magnificently as you Tyrion Lannister." Stannis is quick enough to notice the smell of some sort of alcohol on Tyrion's breath."

"Hear hear. I am the God of..." 

"Mr. Barratheon?"

Saved by the Stark. 

"Mrs Dustin wants to finalize her legal drafts. You have a meeting with her in ten." "On it, Jon."

Jon Stark is probably the most professional intern ever to set foot into a lawyer's office. It was hard to imagine him as a boy. Certainly not the kind of boy who would teach his wild cat sister to fight teenage boys twice her size.

"Now that's one kid who needs to get laid. Fast."

Stannis does not feel the need to laugh. "He takes after his father." Tyrion gagged.

Right honourable Ned Stark. Tyrion had spent enough time laughing at him in office. Only to find that the intern outside the door happened to be his son. Stannis had to smile when he remembered the look that Jon Stark had given them. Made one think this one was even more snow than Ned Stark himself. And more uptight than Stannis himself.

Jon handles most of Mrs Dustin's drafts, while Stannis watches. Good kid, he thinks. Though Tyrion's judgement was probably very astute. 

Or he'd end up like Stannis himself.

It wasn't that he hadn't tried. After all, he  _had_ married Selyse Florent. And they'd tried to make it work. She'd died though. Not long after Shireen had turned two. Mya had liked her. Gendry, not so much. But Stannis reckons that it would have ended in a split anyway. 

And then there was Melisandre.  _That_ had been a disaster. Even though he _did_ sometimes wonder if... or not. She'd been crazy. And he'd been crazy to actually date her. Anyway, that was not something Stannis Baratheon thought about often. Or wanted to think about. _  
_

Melara, Rhaella, Asha, Rose... the many dates Robert had fixed him since god knows when. They had all ended with a bang.

Sometimes he wonders if it was some sort of physical defect.

Wait a minute. Tyrion had achondroplastia. Enough said.

"Mrs Baratheon, I'm afraid you need..."

"Oh don't you  _dare_ tell me what or what not to do, you half baked wolf pup!"

Shit. Cersei.

The last thing they needed was the Harpy descending on the office, terrorizing the interns and in general, disrupting all the schedules.

And descend she did, a mildly surprised Stark following her, trying to explain something. It really wouldn't do as a senior to watch the witch take out her psychosis on innocent interns so...

"Cersei."

She quirks her lips into a mocking smile.

"Well if it isn't Robert's favourite nanny." 

"I believe you do not have an appointment."

"I believe you do not have a life."

There's not much he can say to that. 

"State your business, sister-in-law."

"Oh I'm just here to see that little beast. And maybe to have a word with you, _Uncle Stanny_."

"And why on Earth would my charming sister be looking for me?"

Cersei narrows her eyes. "Imp."

"Sister. I believe you're intruding. Didn't you hear Jon?" Idiot. He didn't have to bring the boy into it. Luckily for them, Stark seems to have disappeared.

"You know very well why I'm here."

"Do I?" If there's one thing the imp is better at than demolishing cases in court, it's riling up his sister. Stannis has a feeling this has something to do with their brother and nothing to do with anything remotely professional.

"You set Jaime up." Ah. So that was it. "Come again?"

"You. Set. Jaime. Up. On a  _date._ "

Tyrion had not, in fact, set Jaime up on a date. The date was more Jaime's own doing than anyone else's. With helpful needling from his brother and Loras Tyrell. Oh, and Renly.

"So, Jaime is not allowed to date? He has a right to a life, woman! I only told him that he should man up and just ask the bloody girl out!" Tyrion does not mention all the lunch hours Jaime has spent in their office whinging about Renly's freakish tall PA. Cersei really didn't need to know.

Cersei, evidently, is not impressed. "I am  _so_ sick of you fixing up  _my_ brother with shameless gold diggers. I've never seen him mooning over a girl like that! You know what?" she says, pausing for breath. "I'm going to get her a restraining order, so she'll keep her paws off him. And don't think I won't."

"Mrs. Baratheon," Stannis intervenes. She swiftly glares at him. "And don't you think I'm done with you Stannis Baratheon! You set that ugly little bastard on Joffrey again, didn't you?"

Oh, Gendry. What the hell have you done?

 "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're referring to, Cersei." "Then allow me to elaborate. Your charge, Robert's smelly little bastard appeared out of nowhere last Saturday and beat up our poor Joff black and blue. Poor Joff even had a split lip." Poor Joff indeed. Stannis wonders what exactly he had called Gendry. Joffrey  lived to make the lives of others miserable. And he knew his own boy better than to think he would attack precious Joff without provocation. "Gendry is a bitter tempered boy, I'll admit, but I do believe he wouldn't dare to attack someone without being provoked. I _will_ be having a word with him though, rest assured."

 Cersei gives him a withering glare and flounces out. Tyrion bursts into laughter behind her back. "Stannis, Stannis, Stannis," he gasps. "Will we ever end this soap opera. Do congratulate young Gendry for me, will you?"

"He shouldn't have done it." replies Stannis. "No matter what provocation."

"It wasn't him, though. Arya said Joffrey set his cronies on them at the red Fork. And it wasn't Gendry who beat up the little sh- sorry Mr. Baratheon." Jon Stark rarely volunteers information, but the look of utter pride on his face is unmistakable.

Tyrion topples off the table, laughing. "Seven Hells! The great Joffrey Baratheon got beat up by the intern's little sister. Now that's platinum, Stark! Priceless! Only one question remains." Stannis does not like the glint in Tyrion's eye as he looks at both of them.

"What on Earth was Gendry Baratheon doing with Arya Stark at the  _Red Fork_ on a sunny little Saturday, when he should have been moping at home, eating pancakes and she should have been bugging her sister and practising football?" _  
_

It was clear from the way Jon's eyes widened that he had probably never considered it in that light.

Seven hells.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment Sir, I need..." He was fumbling with his phone as he walked over to the next room. Of course Tyrion made sure they overheard him.

"Looks like we've got a problem, Stark. A problem called little sister."

If only Tyrion knew what he'd just gotten Gendry into.

 "Are you telling me  _I'm_ the only one who doesn't know?" _  
_

Or not.


	3. Episode Drama Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gendry is afraid, the kids are hyper and the front room needs decoring. Also, Renly.

"So Jon Stark only found out about Gendry today?" Devan Seaworth asks Edric. Gendry looks at them forlornly. "What?"  
"You do realize Jon's the worst of the six, right? Remember the time he drove all the way down from Castle Black just because he'd heard that Sansa was dating professor Bolton's psycho son? And it wasn't even her." "Actually, that was Robb. When Sansa was dating Joffrey. Anyway, Uncle Stannis says that Robb knew already. So you seem to be okay."  
Gendry shoots up off the bed, white as a sheet. "Robb knows? Oh SHIT!"  
"Language, man. The fry are up with Shireen in the next room."  
Gendry moans. "Why not just kill me already?"  
"Calm down, Gendry. It's not the end of the world."

"Do you realize that Arya has four brothers? So it's like four on one? I'll be mincemeat before you could spit."

"Naaah. Jon's interning with Uncle Stan. He'll just give them THAT look and they'll all run to the free cities while you and Arya get your fluffy happy ending with lemon cakes and unicorns. And a big rainbow wedding."

Matthos snorts. "You do realize this is  _Arya_ Stark we're talking about, right? Do that, and she'd probably shoot you and stuff your corpse up Cersei's fireplace. And then frame Cersei." "Sounds good to me."

"So it's either Robb and Jon kill him for daring to date their little sister, or Arya kills you for being a total sap?"

Gendry moans. "I don't wanna die." 

"Valar Morghulis, Gen. All men must die."

"Well I'm too young to DIE!"

 

Stannis raises his eyebrow over his mug of tea. On the other side of the table, Davos Seaworth shows less grace and snorts into his.

"Sixteen- drama queen, much?" "Don't look at me, he gets that from Renly.""Renly?"

"Gods yes. He used to rent out the bathroom for his daily sobfests back when he was in high school. And that was  _before_ he came out. My little brother was so much drama." "Well Robert isn't much better, is he? Remember Lyanna?"

"Will I ever forget?"

Robert had been obsessed with the Stark children's Aunt Lyanna, who really didn't think of him as anything more than a dreadful bore and womanizer. Him sleeping with one of her best friend's sisters had been the last straw for her and two weeks later, she announced that she was dating Rhaegar Targaryen, a widower with two small children. They'd married and moved out of the country and Robert had spent months bemoaning the loss of his One True Love. And the rest of his life regretting not running after her. Though Rhaegar T. would probably have taken his head off if he had.

"Remind me why he's so scared of the Stark boys?"

"Well, assuming that they really  _are_ as overprotective as they seem to be, and that they really did teach their sister to fight..." Davos grins, "I suppose young Gendry's got everything to be afraid of."

"Hardly." Snorts Stannis. "They've got me, haven't they?" Silence. "What?"

"You really do care don't you?" 

And whatever Stannis had been trying to say was immediately cut off by a loud screech. "I'm the Queen in the NORRRTH!"

Oh, drat. 

"Varra Baratheon, get down from there this minute!" 

"But Uncle Stannis, she's the Queen in the North. She  _has_ to ride a direwolf!" "Shireen, get your cousin off the railings, before she falls off." "She's not going to fall off, Dad." "Varra, get off the railings before I count to 10."

"But Uncle Stannis!"

"Why don't we all go to the park, and leave Uncle Stannis and the boring old boys alone?" Mya materializes next to the fry. And the rest is a scramble for coats and scarves.

"Well that's that." Says Stannis closing, the door. Only to have someone knocking the second he moves back.

Oh dear.

"You have room on the couch tonight Stan? I'm having a meltdown."

Renly. 

"Yes. Yes I do. Come in, I should think it's getting cold."

He ushers Renly into the dark hallway. Renly makes a face.

"Holy crap, Stannis! When was the last time you decored this place"

"Decorated. Not decored, Renly. And please, don't swear. The children..." "Are out with Mya and won't be back for an hour. Seriously, man. This looks like something Roose Bolton would do!" 

"I do believe Roose's styles have changed since Walda appeared. And no, Renly. I'm not redoing the house right now."

"I pity the kids. Where's Edric?" "Trying to calm Gendry down."

"Eh?"

"He's dating Ned Stark's daughter, and let's just say a certain intern of mine found out."

"Right. Let's just stay away from the details." Suddenly Renly looks scared. Like he used to, back when their parents had died and he'd had to take care of Renly by himself. 

"There's something I need to talk to you about."

"And what would that be?" Was he sick? Was he in trouble? Or had he gotten a girl pregnant? Wait. This was Renly. He's certified Gay.

"I'm getting married."

Seven help them.

"To Loras?" "No, to Cersei Lannister. Of course I'm marrying Loras!"

Oh. Right. First keep calm. Second, congratulate.

"Well, that's good. I'm glad you've made a mature decision. Have you proposed?" Renly flashes the ring. All that Stannis can say is that it's flashy. Like Renly.

"Yeah. I know it's the right thing to do." "Please tell me that you're not having cold feet."

Renly looks surprised. "What? Oh, no, no. No. It's not the cold feet. It's the..." He looks at his shoes. 

"The what? The wedding?" Renly nods.

What about the wedding. He and Loras could afford a big wedding. Did they want to elope, or something?

"Loras's whole family's gonna be there. Grandma Olenna, Marge, Mace... everyone. And they're all really happy for us."

"And?"

"They think ours will be just as happy."

Oh. OH. 

Shit.

"And?"

"Look, Stan, I know I'm a marriage counsellor and that I'm supposed to know what to do, in a case like this, but... I really want Robert to be there for us. Even if he's going to call me a fag." He takes a deep breath. I know this sounds really crazy and masochistic, like I want Cersei the homewrecker at the best day of my life, but you get it, right?"

He didn't. Not really. But this, he supposes, is one of those times that Melisandre used to talk about. 

"Please continue." 

"Well, it's not like Marge and Grandma and all of them like Robert, or Cersei. And I think something went down between Margaery and Joff, though she's like, way older than him, but they have this weird family bonding thing and they all love each other so much no matter what, and... they really think that ours is just as close. That Robert would do anything for the two of us. I've told Loras about the kids and you and Robert not knowing who's who, but he doesn't get it. And Robert doesn't seem to remember that I'm his brother and I'm not doing anything wrong. Hell, I thought you'd be the one I'd have to not talk to, the one who wouldn't come around, but it's  _Robert,_ the brother everyone was jealous of me for having. I mean, I know you were always the one around and everything and I do love you for that, but Robert was like my hero for so long, and it really hurt when he just didn't say anything that day. I feel like I can never forgive him, but I really want to. I  _shouldn't._ And it's totally stupid that I do, and he ... but I..."

"You want to know if you should invite Robert." Renly nods.

He should have seen this coming. He'd forgotten how young Renly was. Renly had worshipped the ground Robert walked on. Robert had never said it outright, but...

_"He just called our brother a fag!"_

_"But he is one, isn't he?"_

That had hurt. Stannis had been furious. But he never forgot the look on Renly's face that day. He'd never forget it. Not until the day he died.

"He's just as much your brother as I am. Why wouldn't he be there?" "Err... Cersei?"

 _Family, duty, honour._ He recalls Catelyn Tully's words.

"Renly, just invite him. If he wants to come he'll come. And if he doesn't..."

"Then what?"

"Then he's a worse brother than he is a father."

The shot goes home, and Stannis knows it. Renly smiles nervously.

"Thanks Stan."

"Don't call me Stan."

"Whatever you say... Stan."

 


	4. Date night, fright night #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which four unassuming couples end up in the same place at the same time. Also, much stalking on the part of overprotective siblings.

"So, third of three boys, fourth year at Vale U, studying business management. Is that right?" Michel Redfort looks terrified, as he nods. Stannis decides he'll save the drinking- and- smoking memo for later.

"You've been dating for, what? 3 months? yes, three months." 

Mya had finally brought the Redfort boy home before a date. He was a nice boy, no doubt, and really did like Mya. However, it seemed more than likely that the relationship would not go very far. Families in the Vale could be prickly and certainly it didn't help that Michel was a nice boy from a good family, while Mya was one of Robert's numerous bastards form God-knows-where, being raised by the grim old Stannis Baratheon, and no female influence at all. 

He'd have to break it to Mya at some point, the sooner the better.

"Right, so curfew's by midnight and if you don't bring her back by then, I'm sure you'll regret it."

"Yessir. I'll do that Sir."

Mya looks different in the dress she's wearing. Mel would have called it radiant.  _Stop thinking about Melisandre, you sad old fool! She and you are history._

"Thanks for letting me go Uncle Stannis." He grunts in reply. "Just be careful." "I will, I will. Jeez, it's not like it's my first date."

 _War was easier than daughters,_ Ned Stark used to say, when young Sansa had just started dating Joffrey. Right now, he would have given anything to lock his girls up in a tower surrounded by a moat full of crocodiles in the middle of the Dornish hills. And maybe just throw away the key.

Wait. Didn't Ned's father try that when Lyanna started dating the Targaryen boy? 

 

"Your Uncle Stannis is a bit... strict." Mya snorts.

"Strict. Really? That's the best you can come up with?" 'Well, excuse me for not wanting to be  _rude!"_

They were at The Reach, that place in town that everyone came around to for dates. Mya had been there a few times. It was one of the many investures of the Tyrell family, so of course all she'd had to do was call Uncle Renly up. And he'd been surprisingly complacent.

"I really wish I could have met the others though." Michel says. "Gendry, Shireen and co." 

"Well, Gendry's gone out to watch a football game at the Trident, and will be back by the time we return, and the kids, Edric and Shireen are out with the Seaworths, on one of Davos's silly expedition adventures. I think he's just taken them out to Storm's End."

"Must be nice, living with so many siblings in the house. Mine are, like, way older than me." "It's nice, yeah. So long as they leave you alone."

Which is like, never.

 

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" 

Allard Seaworth turned in the driver's seat at the bright eyed passengers at the back. 

"Yes." 

"You do realize how entirely rude this is, right?" "Is it? Since when has looking out for one's sister been a rude thing?"

"You're not looking out for her, you're stalking her and her date."

"Last I checked, all siblings do that."

The look on Devan Seaworth's face was all proof of that.

"Devan?" "Hmmm...?"

"How many of my dates did you guys trail?"

 

"I can't believe you wanted to bring me here." 

"Well, what can I say? I only want the best for m'lady."

Arya Stark glares at him. "Call me that one more time, and you'll be seeing stars for weeks."

 _I look forward to that._ He might have said. But no. Ew. Too Robert Baratheon. Mum and Uncle Stannis had raised him far too well to think like said Douche. 

"You _are_ m'lady. m'lady." 

"Gendry, I mean it. I have two older brothers. One of them taught me to fight. The other dragged me to and back from kick boxing since I was 8. If I want to hurt you, I  _will._ "

 

"So you're telling me you, Dad and Dale followed me all the way to white harbour, just to make sure I was going to the docks and not to see Dacey."

"You  _did_ go to see Dacey." "That's beside the point!"

"Mother have mercy." Everyone looks at Shireen. She points outside.

"Shoot. It's Uncle Renly. And Loras." She looks surprised. 

"Say what? Oh, shit. Uncle Ren and Loras."

Silence.

"Shireen?" "Yes?"

"did you just swear?"

"Yes. And right now, we have a bigger problem." She was more specific with the pointing, this time.

"Holy Seven! It's Gendry and Arya!"

 

"So, surprise date then?" Loras teases his boyfriend. Renly tugs at a brown lock to shut him up.

"Do you even realize how cheesy this is? And it belongs to my Gran. So...?" He wiggles his eyebrows. Renly laughs.

(Seriously, thinks Shireen from the car, Baratheons should  _not_ blush like that.)

"Aw, excuse me for wanting to be sweet for once."

"But you're always sweet."

"And you're always infuriating."

"Nonetheless, you love me, dear Renly."

"Really Loras, does affection have to be such a public spectacle?"

Shit. Jaime Lannister. And, oh.

"Well look who finally manned up to bring his girl on a date. Bringing her for Christmas this year, dear Lannister?"

"Well wouldn't you know, Baratheon the third?" Jaime smirks. Brienne slaps him.

"Jaime!" 

"What? You're supposed to agree with me, wench! You're my date."

"Not when you're needling my boss, who is in a currently wonderful relationship with my best friend's brother. Ignore him, he's just sulky that his sister blew a gasket this morning and is likely stalking him as of now."

"She wouldn't dare."

Oh wouldn't she?"

 

Tyrion Lannister sits at the table by the light and lifts his eyes over the book obscuring his face. Earlier he'd seen his oh so lovely sweet sister trailing after Jaime and Brienne, looking like she had every intention of ruining what could be an epic date. He was sure she had something cooked up and simmering in the pot. What he didn't expect was for a large number of other familiar couples to be at The Reach. Jaime and Brienne. Renly and Loras. One of Stannis's nieces with her boy, who had the distinct aura of being from the Vale. And ooh la la... Gendry Baratheon and Arya Stark. That's when he notices the two boys bickering in the seat behind him. 

"Look if this goes wrong, we're doomed." "Gods be good Stark, I might have thought you had more balls than that."

Stark? 

Sure enough, it  _is_ his intern sitting behind him. With a redhead who could only be big brother Robb. 

"Jon Stark. Do you have  _nothing_ better to do than shadowing your sisters on every date they go on?"

Jon turns. And promptly goes red. 

"Mr. Lannister, I..."

"Please, boys, spare me. I'm on the same business as you are. In fact, so is my lovely sister, though her reasons are entirely nefarious."

Robb grins. Even Jon manages a bit of a smile. Tyrion returns it in full favour.

"So, boys. Your sister, and Stannis's nephew, eh? That's going to be one hell of a relationship."

"Are you implying..."

"Gracious, Stark and Stark! I'm not implying anything. I'm just saying that the fiercest Stark and the sourest Baratheon just might work out well!" Robb raises his eyebrows, but Jon's looking the other way. Frowning.

"Jon?"

"Err... Mr. Lannister? Isn't that Edric Baratheon in the car with the Seaworth boys and Shireen?" Tyrion is quick to follow his gaze. Sure enough, its the Baratheon brigade and a few of the Seaworth boys stuffed into a car across the street. At a perfect vantage point. 

Great. More date stalkers. Now all that was missing was his father and...

"Hey Jon, isn't that your other boss sitting in that Starbucks over there?"

Scratch that. The only person missing here was Tywin Lannister. 

Tyrion grins like a maniac.

This was going to be one  _hell_ of a night.


	5. Date night, fright night #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which dates are crashed, people are punched and everyone gets a happy ending. For now.

"So I told Mrs Arryn that I couldn't pop Podrick in a sky cell just because he'd accidentally pushed her sweetRobin in the sand pit. And you know what she said?" "I can imagine." "The woman is fucking crazy." "Talk about it." 

Mya breathes a sigh of relief. So far, so good. She really likes Michel, but she did know her Uncle well enough to see that he wasn't entirely happy. Then again, Uncle Stannis hadn't been happy since Mel... wait. She was _not_ going to think about that. 

"So what I was... Hey Mya, that guy over there? He looks a lot like Gendry, doesn't he?" Mya swivels around. And can't help but grin. 

"Looks like? That's Gendry alright. And Arya Stark." "Who?" She turns to Michel. "Oh, just his girlfriend. The one he thinks I don't know about." "Ah." She smirks as she waves at Arya across the dining room.

 

"Hey look, it's your sister." Arya waves back at Mya. Gendry turns, and she can barely hold her laughter in.

His face. So cute. So funny. She decides she wants to kiss him. In front of everyone. 

 

_"Oh seven Hells, Stark. I did **not**  need to see that one."_

_"Shut up, virgin."_

 

"Mya." Gendry says tightly. "I didn't know you had a date." "Didn't you? I was under the impression that you knew, seeing as Ashara saw fit to announce it over breakfast. Oh well. Looks like you've got a lovely girlfriend, Gen. Didn't know you could make decent choices." Gendry glares daggers at her and then rivets his gaze to Michel. Michel flinches. 

There's something undeniably Stannis about this boy.

_"Gendry Mya face off. ten dragons on Mya."_

_"Shut it dude. You don't even have ten coppers."_

 

"Looks like Gendry's got a girl." Renly comments from the window seat. "Poor girl. Wait. No. That's Stark. Poor Gendry." "Ah, let your nephew be, hon. Remember how you were in high school?" 

_Stop blushing, Uncle Renly. Dad would have a fit if he saw you like that._

"Oh and that's the Redfort boy Stannis's been riled about."

_"Special vintage for table eleven. Got that, Kettleblack?" "Yes, ma'am. You boy! Special vintage bottle for table 'leven!"_

Here we are. Table seven.

"Compliments from a friend, ma'am." Mya looks surprised. "A friend? But I..." "Thank you very much." Says Arya promptly, taking the bottle.

"Arya!"

"What? might as well take a chance. Hmm... Summer Isles Arbor. 1986. Hey, this is what they served at Uncle Benjen's inauguration three years ago! I filched some of Jon's." She explains.

 

_"What the Hell snow? Is that a wine bottle?!" "Calm down boys. It's probably a mistake." "Screw mistakes Lannister. That's alcohol, our wildling sister and a Baratheon boy. Not a good combination."_

 

"So who do we toast to? Gendry, or Mya?"

"Arya Stark!" Arya swivels towards the door. And groans.

"Oh shit. What the seven are you two doing here?"

"Hands off that bottle, now." "Did you shadow my date?" "That's beside the point, sis."

"So you shadowed my date." "Did you expect them not to?" "Shut up, Gendry."

 

"Hey Renly, who're those guys crowding your nephew?" "Girlfriend's brothers." "Shadowed the date?" "Don't look like that Lor, how many of Marg's did you stalk?" "Should you intervene?" "Considering that it's my nephew, the Stark wild cat, and her super protective brothers..."

"Yes?" 

"No."

"She's got a wine bottle."

"Good point."

 

_"Kettleblack, you fucking idiot. You sent it to the wrong table!"_

 

"Where'd you get this from anyway?" Jon asks, sharply.

"I believe that would be incompetence on our part sir." The manager of the restaurant has come out. Looking frightfully apologetic.

"It was meant for the lady at table eleven." He looks over to where Brienne and Jaime are engrossed on a football conversation. Cersei would kill him if this went wrong.

"A compliment from a special friend, ma'am. There was a slight mishap over the bottle, do forgive us."

 

_Summer Isles Arbor. For Brienne. Not the Baratheon._

_Hang on. Is that Kettleblack?_

_And didn't father say something about a missing Arbor yesterday?_

_Shit. Cersei!_

 

"Didn't know you had special friends, wench. Asides of me." "That's not funny, Jaime. Though I wonder who..." "Just open the damn thing, Brienne!"

Brienne, pulls at the cork, which is tight. "Er, Jaime you think you could..."   
"HOLD IT!" The interruption is a very loud roar. From a very small man.

"Tyrion?"

"Make way for the God of tits and wine!" With surprising speed, and ignoring the scandalized looks being shot his way, he moves to Brienne, tugs the bottle from her and with a sharp tug, pulls out the cork. 

A pungent smell that couldn't possibly be any kind of wine filled the air, and with a hiss and a soda-like fizz, half of the bottle of Arbor sails out quite comically...

And splattered all over Loras Tyrell's lovely silk shirt. 

A moment of silence. For Loras's shirt. And then, 

"Noooo!!! Not my SHIRT, Goddamnit!"

"Oh you're lucky to escape with a wine stain Loras. This wine's been through a lot of chemicals. Seltzer to make it explode on opening, and a sweet little mix of laxatives in case someone actually dares to drink it. One of my own concoctions, to be honest." He pauses, noticing his brother's death glare. "For frat parties. And the like. Looks like someone sent you a tampered bottle, Kettleblack." He smirks. 

Kettleblack makes to apologize. "It's fine." Brienne waves him off. "I think it's Loras..."

"Wait a minute." Damn. Stark #1. "Our sister nearly drank that."

"Well I'm afraid that I..." 

"So apart from incompetent staff, you've also got contaminated foodstuff."

Kettleblack draws himself to full height. "I beg your pardon, sir. This is an outrageous..." 

" _This_ is an outrageous blasphemy." Renly gestures Loras's shirt. "As a investure proprieted by Olenna Tyrell, I think a full apology..."

"Screw apology! You'd better get ready for courts!"

"Courts?" Kettleblack sneers. "You think I'll take any shit from a bunch of interning runts?" Slight pause. Following which...

"INTERNING RUNTS?!"

And then, all is pandemonium. 

 

_"Oh, Edric, look! They're fighting!" "Pass the popcorn, sweetie."_

_"That looks bad. Care to break them up?" "I'm guessing we should just get Mya outta there."_

_"Oy! Mya! Get away from the fight!"_

 

Stannis grits his teeth and gets out of the car. This was going to be one hell of a night.

 

"I can't  _believe_ the whole lot of you!" Mya screams at the offending siblings. And their escorts. Who looks suitably abashed with the knowledge that all of them would be grounded. Indefinitely. "And Uncle Stannis, I thought you said you'd let me handle it!"

"Well I believe I was wrong, Mya. Had I not intervened, I believe there would have been quite a scandal, one Olenna Tyrell would never forgive my brother for. Now let's get you all back home." Mya looks at Michel for a moment. He looks dishevelled, confused and slightly upset. But he grins and gives a thumbs up when he catches her eye.  _Call you back._ He mouths. This was one story for their future kids, he thinks.

 

"Remind me never to get involved in your romantic shenanigans." Loras wipes off the slimy, smelly wine out of his hair, glaring at Renly all the while. "aw, sweetie, I'm so sorry. It was such a bad accident." "Right now, Renly Baratheon, be glad that I've already agreed to marry you." "Of course you have. You love me. Now what do you say we continue this date somewhere else?" Loras grins like a cheshire cat. "Sure. Where would you propose? Bed, couch or shower?"

 

"Well that was a disaster. We simultaneously ruined four dates. Lovely beginning I should say. Can we thank your sister?" Brienne arches her eyebrows at Jaime. He grimaces. "Please tell me that this isn't our last date." "Well considering all things, Lannister, I do believe..." "Oh, seven hells, Brienne! You're not thinking of ending things over one date, are you?" "Well as I was saying, Lannister, I think standing out here with bloody knuckles is not going to help either of us, so would you like to come over to mine for a coffee?" 

 

"Arya, I'm so sorry." "'s fine." "I really wanted something nice, suiting a lady." "Gendry, I'm not a lady." "You really deserved something nice, though and I...Oomph!"

Arya kisses him fiercely in a flurry of teeth, lips and tongue. In a way only teenagers can. 

"I'll be having a word with those two idiots when I get back home, Gen. And don't you  _dare_ regret all of this." She smiles at him. He's lost for words for a moment, and his only brought back when she kisses him again.

"Best. Date. Ever."

 

_And somewhere in the bowels of a discrete little nightclub not far away, a drunken little imp smiles the pants of a pretty girl named Ros._

_"I am the god of tits and wine." He says. And downs another grey goose._


	6. How well does your batter burn?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shireen is bored, Davos smells smoke and Stannis realizes that he hasn't got the worst deal with daughters.

"Edric."

"Yup."

"I'm bored." 

"Well, duh. You're grounded."

"So are you."

Dad's away at work and Gendry's gone to see Tobho Mott, the heavy metal bass player. Probably with Arya.

Mya was out with Varra and 'Shara. And even if she  _was_ home, she wouldn't be talking to them. And they certainly don't want to talk to her.

Stupid Mya, throwing young adult hissy fits at all of them. Shireen can almost hear her all the way back home, with her screechy voice and mascara trails running down her face.

"You two just wrecked my life, you know that? It's none of your business who I date and what I do when I'm free! If you think you can hitch a ride with Devan and stalk me all over Westeros, you've..." She swallowed another sob.

Dad had sighed. "Mya, it isn't their fault, and you know that. If anyone's to blame, it's whoever sent that bottle. That does  _not in any way_ mean that you have any right to spy on your sister when she's dating." he rounds on the two of them with that stare he usually saves for Uncle Robert. Or Gendry, when he was being extra sulky.

And so, they were grounded. Next door, Devan was suffering the same fate. They couldn't do anything about Allard though. Devan had promised him two months of pocket money. And Devan's pocket money was cut.

"Ed," Edric rolled over the couch to look at her. "What?"

"I'm bored."

"So?"

"Aren't you?"

"Refuse to comment. I'm grounded, so, not saying anything." 

Stannis being Stannis, the two week grounding also meant no outings, no TV, no mobiles, gameboys, movies and absolutely no internet. They were home alone, and dying for some mischief.

"We can play one of Uncle Stan's old board games." He offers. Halfheartedly. 

Those games were so  _boring._

And besides, he really didn't want to go snooping around in the attic. 

_For the attic is dark and full of spiders._ The Red Witch had said, once. 

The Red Witch. He and Shireen had come up with the name. They'd hated her with a passion. As much as Stannis had lo...

No he hadn't. And Uncle Stan was _way_ too good for that psycho woman. She practically made _Cersei_ look sane.

Wait. Why was he thinking this over? Ugh. Stupid grounding.

"Damn you, Mya." He says out loud. "I'm sure you're having fun off somewhere while we stew in our own boredom alone in the house."

And suddenly, Shireen bolts up, bright as a christmas light.

"That's  _it!_ " "What's it?"

"Mya!" "Eh?"

"You know what she says." Shireen's grinning. And something tells him that this is not going to go down well. 

"When in doubt, make pancakes. Get the eggs out of the fridge will you?"

 

"It's good to see you again, Mr. Martell." Stannis does not smile. It's a perfunctory thing, welcoming a new member to the firm. Martell grins. Quite like Tyrion does where booze and women are concerned.

"Oberyn, please. Quite good to see you too, Stannis Baratheon. Tell me, is that delicious little Braavosi cousin of yours still single?" He looks inanely smug as Stannis tries not to looks utterly flummoxed.

Something tells him that Martell and Lannister were going to get along like a house on fire.

Oberyn Martell had been working in Dorne for a long while. He was an ace when it came to criminal cases. And a notorious womanizer. A fact that did not make him any more respectable to Stannis. And he had this air. The kind of air that makes you want to start worrying over any girl working in the office.

He's right about the Tyrion thing though. Even though Oberyn is initially wary of the Lannister, owing to being Tywin's son, they  _do_ get on like a house on fire after that.

"It's going to be great, having a fellow attorney to discuss the fine print with." Tyrion leers at a blood coloured wine glass over lunch. Stannis, on the other hand, is brooding to himself, wondering if Devan and Shireen were home alone and, if so, they were behaving. Two preteens could get into all sorts of trouble when they were alone. He'd ask someone to check on them. Davos, maybe. Or Marya. He doesn't notice that he's tuned out of the conversation entirely, until he notices Lannister and Martell staring at him curiously.

"Stannis seems to be far away today. Is there some lovely lady clouding your head, Stannis, or is it just the aftermath of last night?" Martell has such a skill in making a man feel uncomfortable. 

_The lovely lady never was._ He wants to say.  _We were never supposed to be together._

Fortunately, Tyrion comes to his rescue.

"Stannis here doesn't ever get laid. Like  _never._ " He tells Martell. "He's probably wondering about the kids, and whether some of them are setting the house on fire." 

Or not.

But Oberyn seems interested.

"Children?"

"My daughter and five of Robert's kids. Natural kids. I've been raising them for a few years." He replies. "Three nieces, Two nephews. My brother really does need to revise his marriage vows." It's not a joke, but Oberyn laughs all the same.

"So you take care of them?" He asks. Stannis is surprised to see that he sounds sincere. "Yes. It's hard at times, and grating on the nerves. Especially when your 18 year old niece goes on a date with a boy who she's never going to make it out with and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Oh, and the rest of them stalk her to the restaurant and watch the evening roll down the hill like a round of cheese." He says, reminiscing on the weekend.

Oberyn smirks. "I feel your pain, dear Stannis." Stannis looks up questioningly.

"I have eight daughters. And am not married to any of their mothers. I can completely relate to how you feel when it comes to watching your girls walk out with one boy or another." He's all serious and his eyes light up in that fond way that Robert's never do, when he talks about his "sand snakes" as he calls them.

And suddenly, Stannis finds his measure of respect for Oberyn Martell going up.

 

Davos Seaworth is finishing off his usual trek around the stags' wood. It was nice, living away from the bustle with friends all around.

He'd moved in a few years before Stannis, and remembered the young man on the doorstep next door, holding a then three year old Mya and a battered black suitcase in his hands.

Stannis was a good man at heart, even if he was a little standoffish at best. But he was the truest friend, father and brother anyone could ask for. Just ask the kids. Or Renly.

He's at his own doorstep when he smells something mildly familiar and dread pools in his gut. He's instantly transported back to a day on the Blackwater, many many years ago.

_Smoke. Mingling in the cold winter wind. They were too far off to be caught in the blaze, but he could smell it. The burning wood of the ship and the cargo going up in flames._

He is terrified when he realizes that it's coming from Stannis's house.

There's no time to hesitate. He rushes into his room to find the spare key Stannis left in case of emergency and barges into the house next door.

_Edric and Shireen are in there._

Davos had never played favourites, but he had the softest corner in his heart reserved for Shireen Baratheon. Ever since the day Stannis had brought her home, tiny and dark wrapped up like a loaf. He'd played with her, dragged Stannis to the sept when she caught the greyscale and read her all her favourite stories when she asked him to.

And Edric was Devan's best friend, almost family. Almost twin brother.

"Edric! Shireen!" He shouts. "You in there?"

White smoke spreads out from the kitchen, alerting Stannis to the fact that it may not be as serious as imagined. But still, his heart hammers in his throat. Until he hears a piping voice.

"Mr. Onion knight? we're in the kitchen."

Seven hells.

The kitchen is a veritable mess.

Egg shells and white flour are strewn over the table top. On the stove, is a smoking pan, emitting a disgusting odour of burnt batter. 

"What the seven...?"

"We were trying to make pancakes." Edric explains. "And the pan caught fire. It's alright. We doused it out with the skim milk. Nothing we could do about the smoke though."

For a moment, Davos is speechless. But once he gathers his wits together and looks at the batter-splattered kitchen and the two flour dusted faces staring up at him, he just  _has_ to plop himself onto the nearest chair and laugh his guts out.

 

_Even so, by the time Stannis calls him up to ask him about the children, he's pulled himself together enough to inform him that they're fine, but to perhaps give them something to do next time they're home alone, all the while watching the duo reading through Marya's old cookbook, the one with the recipe for classic Westerosi pancakes._

_It's all he can do to stop himself from cracking up again when Shireen tells Edric "I told you we shouldn't have poured salt water onto the batter in the pan!"_


	7. Hello let me plan your wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I which Renly bugs Stannis and Brienne gets flowers.

"Stannis, thank goodness you're off today! I've just gone out of my mind with all the Wedding plans and I really need your help!" Renly is practically shrieking into the phone. Stannis sighs.

There goes the last hope of a perfect day off.

Not that it had been perfect to start off with. Varra had come down with some kind of flu and was currently clinging to his neck like a baby monkey, refusing to go to bed. Then Lannister had called to say that Martell had taken Stark out for some "field work". Stannis hoped that Ned Stark would not sue him for giving his boy permanent brain damage. And now, Renly.

"What's wrong, Renly?" 

"You never told me a wedding was so haard!" He's nearly sobbing. And Davos though  _Gendry_ was the drama queen.

"Well I wouldn't know and I've only been married once."  _Almost twice,_ he thinks inwardly. What on Earth had gone wrong now?

"There's like soo much to do! And we haven't even started out yet! Stannis I  _need_ you right now!" Stannis is slightly irritated by his brother's whinging. 

"What do you need me for?" "Everything! Stannis, I don't know where to start!"

Well, Stannis knows exactly where to start. He starts at where he began the prep for his own wedding to Selyse so many years ago.

With a list.

 

Brienne Tarth should have known she'd be in for hell when she'd been told to handle the flowers. 

The whole lot of them had been clueless as to how to handle a wedding, and Renly had considered calling in a wedding planner, but then changed his mind. Too impersonal, he'd said. And this morning she'd woken up to a pleading voicemail, sent at 3 in the bloody morning , asking her to go through various florists and their designs. For a wedding that had no theme. And no set date.

Really, the man was crazy. And Loras was worse. But at least  _he_ had his family. Renly never had that luxury.

He'd gotten drunk at a staff party, once. Badly. She'd brought him home, because Loras was out with Marg that weekend and they'd asked him to keep an eye out for him. On the way back, he'd slurred out unrelated anecdotes not stop. And it was then that she realized that he was from the mos dysfunctional family in all Westeros.

He'd gone on and on about his brother Robert, who had been his hero since he could talk. The brother who'd stood by and let his son call Renly a fag. The brother he no longer talked to. And the brother who was married to a psychotic wife. (Looking back, Brienne realizes that she  _had_ been forewarned against fraternizing with the Lannisters, but the realization was probably too late.)

And then he'd talked about Stannis, who was so swamped up in kids (who weren't really his) and work (which he was practically married to) and the worst breakup in the history of breakups (even though Melisandre was a loon). Ever. And even if not, so dour that he could practically put a northern winter to shame.

Brienne had vowed, then and there, that she'd be there for him when he needed her. Like family.

She sighed as she walked into the third flower shop of the morning. Florian 'n' Jonquil. Mrs Stark had recommended it, though it was probably a little too Northern for Renly's taste.

 

"So we start with a guest list, and then make a food list, the make a budget, which is basically an expense list and then top it off with a decorations list. Is that what you're saying?"

"You also need to find a good venue, and set up a date."

"Do you realize that in the past hour we've done nothing but listing this and that?" "A list is always a good way to start, Renly. I'm sure Olenna would tell you the same." He's been with his baby brother long enough to know that planning of any sort bored him to tears, but if Renly wanted a wedding, he'd get one.

(Somewhere on the other side of the coffee table, Loras is being told the same by Margaery, on the orders of Grandma Olenna. In less stiff terms. He smiles at Renly and gives a thumbs up.)

"And then we need to find a septon, for your vows, of course. Dornish perhaps, if the ones here are too prudish to do it. And perhaps you have some idea of what-"

"Stannis?"

Ah. Uncertainity. He hates it. It sounds so wrong on Renly. 

"Yes?"

"D'you think mum and dad would have approved of me and Loras?"

 

"So, roses. we have winter, High garden and Myrrish." Brienne skims through the flowers and their colour schemes. High garden roses would be lovely on Renly and Loras. Hell, Loras  _was_ from High garden. It would look romantic for a nice spring day, like they'd hoped for. She dimly remembers the winter theme from Mrs Stark's pictures of her sister-in-law's wedding, and thinks it didn't suit her boys. She also wonders what their wedding theme will be.

And also whether Renly had been drunk when he'd called her.

"I think my friend might be interested in the High garden roses. His fiance's from there." She says absently, trying not to show that she feels like a gawky idiot, so out of place in the pristine flower shop.

"Hello, Pia. You got my little order for me?"

Oh shit. 

Lannister. 

The girl blushes and giggles. Brienne resists the urge to roll her eyes. "On it Jaime. You'll wait a mo, ma'am?" She turns to Brienne, who shrugs.

"Wench! Fancy finding you here, of all places." He grins, charmingly at her. 

"My name, Lannister, is Brienne. Care to remember?"

He mock faints with his hand on his heart. "Lannister? I'm hurt wench. Is that it? After all we've been through together?" 

Brilliant. He was being over dramatic in public. Again. She's torn between punching him and kissing him. 

"Here you go Jaime." She watches as the girl hands him the loveliest bunch of forget-me-nots she's ever seen. She wondered who he'd be getting forget-me-nots for. Cersei? Because Cersei was more of a Myrrish lace and hothouse exotica expensive rose person than someone who liked simple blue flowers.

"So wench, coming for a coffee?" She'd love to go. But Renly...

"Not now, I've got business to attend to." She shrugs at her notes. "Weddings. Renly and Loras." He grimaces, looking more than a little sour. 

"Well, see you then." He says as he marches out, not looking back. She rolls her eyes and turns. To find Pia staring at her. "Is something wrong?"

The girl shakes her head. "Those flowers..." she says. "Yes, what about them?" "They were for..." And just then Brienne's phone starts to ring like mad.

Renly.

"Brie, are you busy?" He asks, panting.

"I'm at the florist's checking out the flowers like you asked." "Flowers?" How had she ever had a crush on him? Idiot.

"Yes Renly, remember the message you left at three in the morning?" There's silence.

"Oh shit. Brie, I'm so so sorry. Have you got anything? I can't believe I did that!" She can hear him muttering many obscenities and someone - likely Loras- saying something that sounded like "Language Renly!"

"Okay err Brie. You mail me your findings and, uh, take the rest of the day off and go have some fun. I'm really sorry about that message so, uh, bye." He hangs up and she groans. Stupid boss.

She thanks Pia and leaves FnJ.

"And there I thought you were never going to come out." He's standing by the side, leaning on to the wall, the flowers in his arms, smile on his face.

"Apparently, I have the rest of the day off. Renly is soo-" "Let's not talk about Renly." He says, coming closer to her.

"These are for you." He holds out the flowers. "I thought they matched your eyes.

Now, will you come out with me for a coffee, or do I have to drag you all the way?"

 

_"So they really wouldn't have minded?" "No."_

_"Sure?"_

_"Would you stop the wedding if I said yes?"_

_"No!"_

_"Then why does it matter?" Silence._

_"Stannis?" "Yes?"_

_"You'll bring a date for the wedding won't you?"_

_"Are you done with that list?"_

_"Yes but you didn't answer-"_

_Stannis sighs. Loudly and pointedly._

_"Goodbye Renly."_

_And promptly hangs up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... So just a little question. Should Mel and Stannis get back in the end, or should I just leave the thread loose?


	8. You know muffins Jon Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the intern knows nothing. Featuring the ex-flame and a sneaky Oberyn.

"Solid worker, aren't you?" Oberyn regards the boy over his wine glass. Boy, not man. He'd take it up as a goal for the next three months; turn Baratheon's equally stiff intern into a man. God knew the boy was handsome enough. In that haunting, dark Stark way. Old man Hoster's daughter hasn't given him any of her colouring.

He supposed it was the effect of missing Ellaria. Gods knew he couldn't wait to get back to Dorne and get his girl into one of those lovely new positions. Or invent a few for themselves. 

Or maybe it was the fact that he was working with one of those fresh-out-of-college boys who knew less about the fine arts than his youngest sand snake. Gods, he should lock this boy up for a day with Obara. Or Tyene. Or better yet, Arianne.

Or not. 

The boy gives a half smile. "I like to do my best, sir." "Don't call me sir, boy. Save that for the Mannis." He laughs at the little joke. Only to find he is laughing alone. Jon "Snow" Stark is rarely amused by anything, he thinks. Except maybe his sisters. And their shenanigans. 

"Mr. Baratheon is a good man. An  _honourable_ man." Says Jon, firmly. "And it's not good ethics to insult one's boss."

_That_ made Oberyn howl. With laughter. Though he should have seen it coming, really. What else should he have expected from Ned Stark's mini-me son? Not to mention the fact that his ex-brother-in-law and his wildcard wife had practically half-adopted the boy over the years. Eh. Rhaegar. The only time he'd ever got on with the man was at Elia's funeral. And then at Lyanna's wedding. He'd always liked Lyanna. Thought she'd been nuts to marry Prince T.

Between Stannis, Ned and Rhaegar, there was no telling where this lad would end up.

"D'you have a girl?" He asks. The boy's eyes widen comically.

"What? er... no, sir."

"Okay then, a boyfriend?"

"Sir?"

"Are you gay?" He's loving this. Making the boy uncomfortable. Jon Stark sits as straight as a board, looking for all the world like a shy virgin.

"No. Sir. I'm not gay." He manages to say.

"Friend with benefits, paramour, partner, wife, anything?"

The boy is close to hyperventilating. "No sir." He manages to wheeze out.

"Hmmm... No strings attached then." He'd pegged Stark up as one of those full time committed, faithful partner types. "Didn't think you were a callous soldier, lad. But then again, looks can be deceiving, eh?"

"I'm - sure I can't follow you, sir." 

He leans forward conspiratorially. Stark leans as far back as he can.

"What about quickies then?"

"I... Mr. Martell?"

"Blowjobs, handjobs, one night stands? Or is it just casual sex?"

The boy really is hyperventilating now. "No, sir."

Oh by the seven!

"You don't have to be shy. It's not something to be ashamed of. Didn't your father give you the talk?"

There's no way Ned and Cat Stark would have sent their boy out to the world without telling him anything. People didn't  _do_ that anymore.

"H-h-he did, sir." 

"So what are you so riled about? It's not like you're a virgin or someth-"

The look on his is enough to confirm what Oberyn Martell has refused to believe all along.

"What the HELL d'you mean, you're still a virgin?"

 

Jon wishes he could die of embarrassment.

Arya would never let him live it down. If she found out.

And she always did.

 

Mel loves the quiet cafeteria, more than anywhere else. It was warm, warmer than it should be, these winter days, and Mel likes warm things. 

Warm fires in autumn, warm beaches in Tarth, Warm tea and hot toast. 

Mel liked warm. She liked hot even better. 

But it was a stony sort of cold she wanted.

She sighs, softly. She and Stannis had been over for three years, and she still liked him. She wondered if he ever thought of her.

There was no point in thinking through what may have been. He had been stubborn. She had been clingy. Everyone that counted had hated the idea of them. The brother. The best friend. The kids. The kids most of all. She never wants children, she thinks as she walks out of the cafe, into the wintery afternoon.

But there was something about the way Stannis loved those children. Though he didn't know it.

 

_It's a choice, you know. On a scale balance. There's you on one side, and there's the kids, Davos and Renly on the other. I can't let go of all of them." "We could work it out, me and you. You are The One, Stannis. Rh'lorr's chosen. You cannot let go now."_

_"You forget, I don't believe in prophetic visions. Or in Gods. All I see is that you want me to follow you all the way across the continent, out of Westeros, past the free cities, to some strange customary place in the Summer Isles, leaving behind my job, my friends, my brothers who need me even if they don't admit it, and six children who rely on me for everything."_

_"Sacrifices must be made, Stannis. We all make them. And all of that is only so small, compared to your destiny."_

_He had turned to her then. And she had known then that all of it, all her plans, all her love, everything, had just fallen through._

_"It's a choice, you know." He repeated, taking her hand, "between honour and destiny. Desire and duty. I choose duty. And honour." She'd pulled back then, and walked out the door, willing herself not to cry._

_"I choose family."_

 

He'd terrorized the Stark boy enough for the afternoon. That's when he notices the red haired woman who had been by the heater had left her purse on the table. 

He picks it up, and riffles through it, hoping to find a name.

Here it is. Melisandre de Asshai. Hot name. Lives right up his alley. Might just ask her... hey, what's this? A picture!

She was one hot girl. Total red and totally edible. And that must be the boyfriend. Damn, all the hot ones were taken!

Hold on. He looks again.

Seven help us. Is that...? 

No way. That's practically not possible. But didn't Lannister say something about an ex?

Oberyn Martell grins to himself.

Forget Stark. He'd found an even better victim to play cupid on.

 

_And when an understandably furious Stannis phones him later that evening, regarding a certain phone call he'd gotten from a certain understandably irritated Ned Stark, regarding an understandably tongue-tied young son, he only laughed a laugh that filled up the phone lines._

_Just you wait, Stannis Baratheon. He thinks, not quite listening to his coworker's angry tirade about propriety of conversation, or what ever the fuck that was._

_You're next._


	9. And may all your christmases be white (and far away from the Red keep.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas with the Baratheons #1  
> 

"You know you apologize to Marya every year. You don't have to do that." Davos gives his best friend a look. Stannis sighs. "It's not that I have to do it, Davos. I really am sorry that I can't be with them for christmas. I wish I could make them understand."

"But they do." "That doesn't make it any more right."

Davos catches his eye. "You don't  _have_ to go to the Keep every christmas, you know. You can always stay with your kids and have a happy christmas."

"I can't leave Robert alone with Cersei's family, Davos. You know that."  He says. And shuts the car door.

 

The Red Keep is as majestic as ever. Its reddish coral coloured mansion walls and expansive gardens are lighted tastefully giving out the air of lavishness that clung to the Lannister name. There will be a lot of partying here today. Food to go to waste. Flowers that will fade in a day. Decorations that a drunk Robert will smash.

And a distinct lack of happiness.

He grits his teeth and knocks on the front door.  _Even the knocker. Why does everything have to scream expensive and Lannister at the same time? Not even the Tyrells. Or Renly._

Robert's face is already red with drink. "Stannis, m'boy! If you haven't brought your frigid old face with you all the way here on Christmas day!" Stannis grimaces. "Robert." He acknowledges. "Good to see you drunk before dinner. You do realize it's going to look charming on Cersei's lovely dinner table, I assume?" "Ah fuck her, and fuck her table." He roars. Stannis prays that Tommen and Myrcella haven't heard. He would never use that word in the presence of his own. 

Someone had ordered a designer to decorate the house, it seemed. It looked... for a lack of better word, expensive. Cersei, obviously. His own, proud as he was of it, seemed a little silly in comparision. But it was Christmas. He's let the children have free rein over the house, meaning there was tinsel... everywhere. And Gendry had dragged in a tree, a real one, though small, and they'd hung every bauble they could find on it. He wondered what others would think of it. Martell would love it. Lannister would be amused. Davos and Marya were practically family, so they never counted as others. Cersei would laugh. So would Robert. And maybe trample on a few things. Renly would be outwardly charmed and inwardly cringing at the utter 'tackiness' of everything.

"Uncle Stannis! You're here!" Myrcella, Robert and Cersei's daughter. Shireen's age, and Shireen's opposite. Outgoing, pretty, blonde. At ten, she was already a princess, and would be everything Shireen, with her shyness and her scars and her socially introvert father would never be. 

"Hello, Myrcella." She reminds him slightly of a blonde haired Varra, and for a moment Stannis wonders if those unknown half siblings ever cross her mind. She pauses in fornt of him, bright eyed and happy. "Where's Shireen?" 

Ah. That. 

Stannis hates it when Myrcella asked her that question. She did it every year, and for a moment he felt bad. "She's back home. With the others." And just like that, the light in her eyes goes out.  "Oh." she says, smiles and moves out.

Stannis rubs his face. He'd tried to convince Shireen to come last year. That had been when he'd realized she was as stubborn as him.

The dinner table was a lavish sight. There was room for everyone; friends and family alike. Unless they were gay, like Renly. 

Nearly everyone was there; Ned and Catelyn Stark, Jon Arryn alone without his wife, Joffrey looking bored as ever, Tommen as sweet as ever. And of course the Lannisters.

The dinner had started out comfortable. Ned, Arryn and Robert reminiscing good times, Catelyn politely conversing with Tommen, Tywin with Joffrey and Cersei and Myrcella moodily picking at her dinner. 

 Stannis always ignores the Lannisters. Tywin makes his skin crawl and Jaime has not been his favourite preson. Let's not even talk about Joffrey. But this time, there was a severe lack of golden hair.

"Where's Tyrion? And Jaime?" He asks Robert. Across the table, Cersei gives him a chilling look and answers.

"Tyrion's in Dorne. With the Martells." Ah. So they had been getting along well. 

"Jaime..." "-is with Aunt Brie at Miss Margaery's dinner." pipes up Tommen. Ah. Good for him-

Hang on. Aunt Brie?

"Aunt Brie?" Tywin the patriarch enters the conversation. From his seat he reminds Stannis of a lion stalking his prey.

"Uncle Jaime said so. He said he and Aunt Brie were..." "Uncle Jaime was joking. There's no Aunt Brie, Tommen." Cersei says harshly.

"He wasn't joking! He said that Aunt Brie-" "There is NO AUNT BRIE, TOMMEN!" Cersei roars.

Silence. 

Robert belches. Cersei gives him a withering look. Tommen whimpers. Joffrey smirks. Stannis suddenly feels the acute lack of Tyrion in the house. "Unless someone is blood or marriage related to you, Tommen, you don't call them Uncle or Aunt." "There's Uncle Ned." "He's your godfather." And he's as good as your father's brother. He doesn't say.

"Dear Uncle Stannis, what would we do without you and your prudities?" Joffrey drawls from his side of the table. Stannis grits his teeth and ignores Joffrey. It's what he's done since the boy started talking. "How's your bastards?" He feels anger bubbling in his veins. Ignore ignore ignore. 

"Did you not hear me, Uncle?" Ignore ignore ignore. "Yes, Stannis, how are your young... charges?" Cersei throwing her weight in Joff's corner. He looks up and smiles tightly.

"Fine. Carrying on." As expected. He gives no details. Tells no stories.

Cersei leaves him alone after that, thank the gods. But he can feel Myrcella boring a hole into his head. Peace at last?

Not.

"Oh Stannis," Robert says, for a moment sounding deceptively sober. "I got this card. From Renly. Something about a... wedding? Has he finally settled down with a nice girl?"

Oh. Shit.

"Did you not read the invitation, Robert?" He asks politely as he can manage. But Robert is swilling down another glass of wine. The rest of the table stares at him. Stannis sucks in an involuntary breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Ned giving him a look of utmost pity.

"Eh... He's getting married in't he?" This interests Cersei.

"Renly's getting married? Isn't that interesting. I'd have thought it impossible, considering his previous... dalliances." She titters, and Stannis crushes the urge to shove her face into the table. "So what's she like... fiancee? Pretty? Rich? Probably a rather soft headed girl considering-"

"No. Cersei." Stannis says, with admirable calm. "Renly is getting married in march. To Loras."

The tension at the table could have been cut with a knife. It is Tywin, who breaks it. "Unnatural." He hisses. "Robert, you must put a stop to this."

"It's Renly's choice, who he marries, not Robert's." Counters Jon Arryn. "It was good of him to invite you, after all this coldness between you." "Think of it, Bob. It will be a good chance to make amends with Renly and Loras. They're going to be family, like it or not." Ned puts his piece in.

"You can't honestly be thinking of being there can you? You're an idiot, I know, but even you're not that thick! What do you think the people would say? Robert Baratheon's brother in a gay marriage! You'd be the laughing stock of the entire business world!" 

"Here's an idea. Why don't you disinherit him, dad? Cut him off from the family, lock him up in a facility, like the dirty fag he is." "He's our uncle Joff. It would be cruel to shut him away. Besides, he loves Loras. I think it's sweet Daddy. Can we go?"

Robert is quiet. For a moment. And then he belches. Again. "Maybe I should go. Just me, mind you. And try to convince him to change his mind. We've let him run around with the Tyrell boy too damn long. Should have put a stop-"

"No." Stannis stands up. And faces his brother. "Renly is  _our_ brother. And he's getting married. He wanted you to be there as his brother. To be happy for him. If all you're going to do is upset him by harping on wrong life choices, which you have no authority to do, since you've been taking wrong turns since you became an adult..." He pauses. And glares at Robert.

"If you're not going to be his brother this March, please don't show up at the wedding." And with that, he nods to Stark and Arryn and stalks out of the house.

Damn him to the seven hells! He should have seen this coming. Should have told Renly to forget Robert and just have his wedding. He should have-

"Uncle Stannis?" He looks up. Myrcella's in the doorway. Looking at him oddly.

"Where are they? the others?" "They're with a friend of mine." "Is Shireen with them?" Pause. "Yes. She is."

"Why?" He gives her a piercing look. "They're family. Her cousins." And pretty much siblings, in all of their minds.

"So am I." Myrcella says. "I'm her cousin too."

You are, Stannis thinks, looking at the little girl, who for a moment looked more like a lonely child than a princess.

And, however much they deny it, you're their sister, too.


	10. Jingle bell Rock (When Dad's out of the house)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas with the Baratheon's #2

_Me: Where are you, m'lady?_

_M'lady: Call me m'lady one more time and thump you. At home. With family. We had a christmas lunch._

_Me: What, no dinner?_

_M'lady: Mum and Dad had to go to Douchebag B's dinner. And watch him get drunk. Pity. We're having fun._

_Me: How so?_

_M'lady: Aunt Lya's home for christmas. And Uncle Rhae. We're gonna tear the house apart. What about you?_

_Me: Seaworth's for Dinner. Uncle Stannis let the kids tear the house apart yesterday. There's tinsel. And a tree._

_M'lady: OMG LOL! I so wanna see that. Be there in 5._

Shtick. She's going to be here. In 5. And Marya hasn't even started the pudding. 

"What does Arya say, Bull?" Mya teases. "'s not her." "Is so." "Oh yeah? How d'you know?"

"You're blushing." Gendry bites back a curse word. "She's coming to see the dec. in 5." "Ha! And maybe see her darling boyfriend too?" "Shut up." 

"Is something wrong Gendry, dear? You look a bit red. Is it a fever?" Marya asks in a friendly motherly way, as everyone at the table sniggers into their dinner. Speechless, Gendry shakes his head. "Um a friend just texted to say that they're coming over in a few minutes to see our tree and stuff." "Just a friend then? Not that special someone?" Marya asks as all the children shake with suppressed laughter. Gendry glowers at his siblings. "No, Marya."

 

"This is soo cool!" Arya stares at the tacky tinsel and the bright baubles. "We used to do this when we were younger. Maybe we'll do it again today. Aunt Lya's a bit crazy. Crazy fun, though." "Like you, then." Arya punches his arm. He grins like an idiot. "It was a bit tough, getting the tree in. Uncle Stan and Edric helped out. I got it down though." "Wow. Strongman, much?" She laughs.

The whole house is covered in cheesy Christmas decorations. They've hung baubles and fake candy canes on the staircase and the walls and there's tinsel all over the dining room. Uncle Stannis had grimaced when he saw it, but all he said was, "make sure you clear up after Christmas." He's kind of glad though. It's made Arya smile and that was his favourite sight in the world. 

"So," he says, arm around her shoulder, "hot chocolate?" She raised her eyebrows. "Hot chocolate exists at Stannis Baratheon's house?" "Well, Mya loves it. And I think she puts hot choc mix into her pancakes." She grins. "Remind me to come over for breakfast one day. Hot chocolate it is. But first..."

She kisses him. And he's never been happier.

 

_Michel: I'm just outside. Can you pop out?_

That's Mya's cue to head out. Unlike Gendry, though she whispers his name into Marya's ear before popping out for a breath of fresh air. 

"I thought Mr. Baratheon would have locked you up, tonight." Michel says, by way of greeting. "He's out. At his brother's." Mya never called him dad. Michel heard what she didn't say. He smiles at her. And feels a bit like a sap.

 "I loved your present." "And I loved yours. I was wishing I could see you today." "I'm glad I did come. It's always nice to see you." "Even after a ruined date and I'm throwing a fit at my brothers and sisters?" "Most of all then." "Sap." "Ditto." They smile at each other like the pair of idiots that they are. 

"Oh. And I got us something." Michel fishes for something in his pocket. It turns out to be a pretty much crushed sprig of mistletoe. He looks up at her, holding the sprig awkwardly. 

"Didn't think christmas would be christmas without a kiss."

Mya grins. "You, Michel Redfort, are a sap." He shuffles a bit awkwardly.

"But you know what? You're my sap. Hang that over here will you?"

 

 "Isn't that too much pudding, Varra?" "No!" "'S not good for you." "Is so!" 

"Ah, quit bugging her Shireen. It's Christmas." "Oh yeah Devan? Then I'll make sure to wake you up when she's up all night on a sugar rush."

Edric wand Shireen watch hopelessly as Varra tucks into her pudding. With sauce. All over her face. Devan smirks at them.

"Dev, stop smirking." "It's a free Westeros." "Don't care. Cut it out." "Ed, tell your sister to stop playing mother hen. 'cause it really does not suit her. 'Sup Shara?" Devan leans towards Ashara, who is whispering in his ear. He shoots up with a grin.

"Little birdie Ashara tells me that something interesting is going on outside. Do get the camera mother hen. And follow my lead."

 

"'s nice. Being kissed on Christmas day." Says Mya, arms around Michel, humming to the carols Michel's got on in his car. They're waltzing, slow dancing, whatever and the light winking in Davos's front room means he's keeping a weather eye out without disturbing her moment. It's better than she's ever expected.

_"Shhh... not so loud! If Mya hears you, we'll be grounded. Again." "Shutupshireenshe'sgunnhearyou."_

_"Does that camera have flash?" "...." "Sorry."_

_"Are they...?" "Not NOW Ashara!"_

"What was that?" Michel asks, looking around. "What was what?"

"Nothing. I thought I heard... Anyway."

"It's a bit late. Your parents will be looking for you. And Uncle Stannis will be back soon." "So soon?"

"He hates Christmas at the Red Keep. It won't keep him long." "Okay, then. You'll take care, yeah?" "Yeah. You too, Mich."

"One last goodbye kiss then?" Mya leans forward and presses her lips to his.

_FLASH!_

"What the-" They break apart and look around. 

Seemingly, nothing. 

Smiling dreamily, she waves Michel goodbye and heads back to get the kids.

 

_"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" "I admit it was pretty impressive. When do we give it to her? Maybe... on her wedding day?"_

_"If they last that long. How about Saint Valentine's?"_

_"Oh god." "What?"_

_Ah._

_"Ashara get back, now!"_

 

"Hey isn't that Michel?" "He's here to see Mya? What the Hell?" Arya gives him a look.

"What."

"I'm here. With you." 

"Well of course you are. You're m'la-oomph!"

"You say that one more time and I'll set Jon on you." He grins goofily. She softens up.

"Thanks for the hot chocolate. It was great being here." "Yeah. Have fun with your Aunt and them." "Will do." "Oh and one last thing."

For the first time since they started dating, he kisses her.

_FLASH!_

_"Oh my gods. That was unexpected." "Did it come out right?" "Yeah. Yeah. It's pretty cool. We could mail it to Arya. She'd love to see it."_

_"Or to Mr. Stark. And her brothers." "Seven hells, that'll be fun!"_

_"Hey, is that Hot chocolate I smell?"_

 

"Hey, what's up little bird?" Davos asks the second youngest often ignored Baratheon, seating himself on the beanbag next to her. "Nothing." "Oh come on, little girls like you shouldn't have secrets from old Mr. Onion knight should yeh?"

Ashara sighs and looks up at the kindly old sailor.

"Mr Onion knight?" "Yes?"

"You know people have special people?" "Oh?" "Like you and Marya. And Mya and Michel. And Gendry and Arya?" "Yes, they do..."

"Well I was just wondering." "Why?"

"How come Uncle Stannis doesn't have that special person?"


	11. 50 shades... of red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring Oberyn the Matchmaker (among others)

"Miss Melisandre de Asshai?" 

When her doorbell rings, for a moment, she thinks it's Stannis back again. Asking her to take him to Essos with her. Wishful thinking yes, but she can no longer help it. The man at her door however, is a different story altogether.

He's not Stannis, is the first thing she thinks. But he's ever so much more handsome. Southern, it seemed. Dornish or Braavosi? Dornish, she guesses. He smells of spice.

"I am Melisandre. And you...?"

"Martell. Oberyn Martell. I live somewhere down the street. New to this place though. I found your wallet." He smiles (born charmer she thinks) and holds out a familiar red object.

"Oh. Thank you. Do come in for a drink." He moves in with the grace of a Dornishman. Something about him screams Sunspear, but then again, she feels a hint of water gardens in him. 

"So. Miss Asshai," "It's Melisandre." "Melisandre." He savours her name on the tip of his tongue. Any other woman would love it. But she'd rather have it said without a care. Sharp. Crisp. Like it mattered. "Can I call you Mel?"

 _You can call me anything, so long as it's not Red Witch._ "Mel's fine. Mel's good. So, tea coffee or Essosi pepper?" He brightens up. "Essosi pepper?" "Yes. I'm from the free cities, so... it's a sort of tradition." "I can't imagine most people liking it." "No..."  _Stannis hated it. That's why there's tea in my kitchen._

They're comfortable in the living room, the warm sharp smell of the drink infusing into the air around them. Mel keeps a cozy place, probably not too comfy on a summer day, but a brilliant winter hideaway.  _Fire worshiper tendencies._ Oberyn thinks.  _And attracted to Stannis Baratheon. A paradox of paradox of paradoxes._

"So, ah, Mel. You live here?" "Mhmm. Moved in six years back. I work for Rhl'lor. At least, I did. I'm moving out back home. Soon." "Oh, so tired of Westeros already?" "It's been six years. And Rhl'lor needs me back in Essos. It's just not the same." _Not the same Mr. Martell, sitting in an empty apartment waiting for someone who let go three years ago to come back into your life._ _  
_

"I get it. Same with me really. Dornish, if you hadn't guessed. Sort of strange, living in the Crownlands among a world of prudes." She laughs, though a part of her is wary of him. Why was he speaking to her like he'd known her all his life? He reads the question in her eyes.

"I was going through your purse for some sort of identification. I must say you look prettier than in the picture." There's a twinkle in the remark. "I believe some would construe that as a breach of privacy, Mr Martell." "Oberyn, please. Yes, I suppose they would, wouldn't they? But more importantly, would you?"

"Mr. Martell, I do believe-" "I believe, dear Melisandre, that you're pining after a certain co-worker of mine, who may or may not reciprocate your feelings. And considering that him getting laid would be a definite improvement on all our parts, I'm quite willing to help you out."

Melisandre does not know why her palm has not connected with Oberyn Martell's smug face, yet.

 

"So, old man, how was Christmas?" Stannis winces when Martell breezes into his office, smelling of Essosi pepper. He tries not to think of her. And fails, of course.

"The same as ever. No doubt you and Tyrion had an eventful holiday in Dorne." "Oh, no doubt about that, Ellaria and I had some... quite amusing moments and Tyrion finally found out why Dornishmen don't need to visit Lyseni houses of finer arts. I must say he appreciated it." The clatter in the background was obviously young Snow running for cover. Stannis grits his teeth. 

"Do you not have anything better to do than talk about your various debauched practices? Surely there's a few cases on your table? How about the Cleagane thing?" "Oh, he's guilty. Intentional injury coupled with severe haemorrhage. Trademark Mountain. Thank the Gods they finally got him. But right now, dear Stannis, I've got something far more amusing on my plate." "Martell-"

"I met a charming young girl you know. Well, a woman to be precise. But still... Pretty thing, decked in 50 shades... of red of course. Drinks Essosi pepper, wears fireflower perfume, lovely little seductress." Oberyn smiles wide to find Stannis gritting his teeth. "Lovely woman. I'm sure she's got some... ah, brilliant skills where it counts. Pity you're not into women, Stannis."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. I just thought you had the same leanings as that brother of yours." "I don't go whoring around, if that's what you're referring to, Martell." "Oh, did I say you did? Anyway, I'm taking the charmer out to dinner sometime soon, probably tomorrow. Ellaria will love her I know. And her legs! Think what you will, but I haven't seen legs like that, not even in all the Summer Isles. And they have the hottest red-" "She is  _not_ a prostitute." Stannis spits through gritted teeth.

"I didn't say she- my my my, Stannis. Do we have some history I'm not aware of?" Oberyn's feeling particularly daring. He expected a punch. Or a smack. But then again... Stannis. 

"There is nothing you need to be aware of, Martell. Your life, your choices." "Hmmm... Unusual for Mr. Judgmental Stannis. I rather thought you'd-" "Judgmental?" Stannis looks up sharply. " _Judgmental?_ Martell, I have two brothers. One is a whoremonger, the other is gay. Do you see me judging either of them?"

Oh. Right. That was a bit far off.

"I never meant-" "Well being a top Westerosi barrister you should really know when something is offensive. Stark!" He barks out the last word. Young Jon pops his head out of the closet. 

"Sir?" "City hall in 10. You're taking courtroom notes today. If you'll excuse me Martell." He very nearly storms out of the room after young Stark.

"Well, I take it that went well." Tyrion Lannister strolls into the empty office. 

"Believe me Lannister, Doran was worse. And I was in high school then." "So comparatively on a scale of one to ten..." "He'd be a six." "Right. That low?"

"Well, Stark over there would be a seven, and my brother Doran, somewhere around six and a half...and of course-"

"Rhaegar's a ten." 

"You read my mind."

 

 _Stupid stupid stupid stupid!_ Stannis berates himself sharply over afternoon.  _He was so obviously trying to aggravate you and you... you just had to fall for it, didn't you?_

 _Then again, how would he know about Melisandre and all that?_ He doesn't want to think about that. Tyrion, maybe. Or office gossip. Probably Tyrion. 

 _Or maybe he really is seeing her. You know Dornishmen don't mind polygamy._ His treacherous mind supplies suspicion. And it freezes his gut.  _She has moved on from you. And started over again._

As it should be. She was not a bad woman. By gods he had loved her and perhaps in her own way, she had him, but some loves are not meant to be. She would never let go of her calling as a Rhl'lor advocate. And he would never let go of his children. 

_The things we do for love... It's always one over another._

 

"We should get Uncle Stannis a girl friend." Ashara tells Shireen on the way home. It's a quaint winter walk to the house and they're feeling a bit poetish. Ahead of them, Varra tumbles and skips joyfully, catching at the snowflakes floating in the sky." 

"And how do you propose we do that?" Shireen looks sharply at her sister. "Careful there, Varra! You'll slip on the ice." 

"I thought you'd know." "I don't. And why so sudden, 'Shara? It's not like you want a step auntie is it?" "I don't but-"

"But what?"

"Uncle Stannis" "What about him, 'Shara?" "He looks so... alone." "He's not alone. He's got us." Ashara mumbles something.

"What was that?" "'s not the same thing."

Shireen pinches her lips together and for just a moment, looks frightfully like her father. "I'm not quite sure you understand Ashara." She says. Her voice is clear on the winter air. "Last time father had a girl friend, she wanted to whisk him off to Essos. And leave us all behind. You wouldn't remember. You were four." She shivers. And it's not the cold.

"What don't I understand? And what is it I don't remember?" Shireen is speechless. The red witch, she wants to say. Melisandre de Asshai.

_Melisandre, with her hand on Gendry's shoulder, whispering terrors in his ear. Frightening Edric to the point he'd crawled in to sleep with them for weeks. That crazy smile that was painted on her face all the time. The way she worshipped father._

_And the way father had wandered through the house like a lonely ghost once she'd left._

"I-" She catches herself. There were some things she didn't think Ashara would get, without seeing first hand. A loathing she would never comprehend without feeling. She'd tell her, this clever curious all-but-by-blood little sister of hers. Someday.

Just, not now.

"Why not, Shireen?" Ashara insists. Shireen stops. Turns. And grasps her little sister's hands. 

"I know this might sound weird and all to you. But you'll understand someday, soon. Sometimes some people don't find their love. The love comes to them. Daddy was in love with his girlfriend. And I think she loved him."

"So then why didn't he marry her?"

"Because sometimes you've got to choose what you love more. And Daddy chose us."

"That doesn't explain why he hasn't got a girl friend."

Shireen sighs.

"Maybe it's because he doesn't want one yet."

_Maybe he's not ready for her yet._

She doesn't expect Ashara to understand, not really. But maybe someday she would. Or maybe not.

Maybe someday daddy would find someone to love.

Maybe someday soon.


	12. Hear me miaow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Lannisters have some quality bonding time. NOT!

"So. How's Brienne?" "Tyr, I thought I said no B word in front of dad and Cersei." "What? I didn't call our sweet sister anything." Tyrion chortles as his brother shoots him a sharp glare. "Oh alright. But she's not here, so why stop me from asking about your girl? She's all you ever talk about, elsewhere." "Tyrion!" "What?" "Not here, not now, not this way. I haven't forgotten that day at the Reach yet. Olenna Tyrell gave me an earful when I got back, sane and sober. Somehow I think Stannis and Ned missed the memo. Else, it was exclusive." "Well you'll have to get used to the Tyrells soon enough, I daresay. And Cat Stark. If you're going to stick to Brienne Tarth." Jaime groans. My wench has such an  _awful_ taste when it comes to friends." He pauses and looks up to see Tyrion smirking.

"What?"

"So who's talking about my future sister-in-law  _now_?

"Tyrion for once do me a favour and shut up. Please." Tyrion shuts up. And does not say a word for full five minutes.

"Tyrion," He cocks his head. "What are you doing?"  _You told me to shut up._ He looks at Jaime pointedly. But does not say anything. "Tyrion." The call is ignored. "Damn you little brother!" And like most brotherly arguments in Tywin Lannister's household, it ends with Jaime leaning over the table and mercilessly tickling his brother into a fit of giggles.

"Well, if you two are  _quite_ done with acting like  a pair of imbeciles..." They look up to see Tywin Lannister staring at his two grown sons acting like two of Stannis Baratheon's brats. 

Jaime stands up quickly. "Father." 

Tyrion does what he always does. Ignores the patriarch. And hops back onto the garden chair. Jaime sighs inwardly. He was the golden child but Tyrion, the dwarf who'd spent his entire childhood crying in Jaime's closet, had grown to be the far more clever and far more courageous one. He had chosen to walk out on the Lannister corporation and start out as a lawyer with Stannis Baratheon. And made his name as a hard talking genius. No one disputed that. Not even Stannis.

Tywin takes his place in the centre chair, like a lord of old, or a king.  _Kingmaker, more like_ he can hear Tyrion's wry thoughts in the air. "Your sister is on her way back home, after a second argument with her husband. I believe Jon Arryn has levelled a serious accusation against her."  _Jon Arryn?_ What would the old man have to say against Cersei? Sure she was a bitch, but it was mostly Stark, Tyrion or Stannis who bore the brunt of all of that. Why would Arryn be confronting Cersei? Something is disquieting about this and Jaime finds it hard to sit still and wait.

And so Cersei arrives on a cloud of fury and expensive perfume. They can feel her fury radiating all over the garden, and secretly Jaime wonders why they do not all burn. She is beautiful, this sister of his, with her spun gold hair and her clear green eyes. So much that Brienne would look terrible beside her in that wedding photo of that wedding that he hoped to have someday, when he had enough courage to face his father and sister. Tall, slender and majestic like she was crafted from marble. It had taken Jaime many years, their mother's death and Tyrion's many tears to understand that it was exactly what she was. 

Marble. Cold. Hard. Frozen.

She had always been cold, but marriage had made her colder and harder to love. Understandable, really. Cersei had never had her way in love. First, she had loved their cousin Lancel. Uncle Kevan's son. They had slept together and had some sort of understanding. Jaime had caught them, once. And heard them many times. But then she'd cheated on him and Lancel had moved up North, disillusioned and then joined the Citadel. Uncle Kevan had yet to forgive Cersei for it. 

Then there had been Rhaegar Targaryen, the young doctor across the street, the son of one of father's old associates and a widower. Cersei had wanted to sink her claws into him, rich and handsome as he was. She had almost snapped him up. And then he'd met Lyanna Stark, when he had delivered her nephew, Jon. Neither Robert nor Cersei had forgiven Rhaegar, Lyanna or little Jon for it.

Not to be deterred, she'd gone and married Robert Baratheon in a whirlwind romance. And all had gone to hell after that. Cersei's brothers were not so blind as to see that she smelled of a different man every other month. The only thing that kept her with him was her children.

Poor Cersei. The recipient of  Robert's indifference, Tywin's irritation and now, his own pity.

"Can you believe it?" She shrieks sharply. "What?" asks Jaime. But she is not listening, muttering to herself in the throes of a full blown hissy fit. Tyrion stifles a giggle. 

"Cersei, please stop acting like a child and kindly explain what happened." It is their father who intervenes.

She glares at him sharply. "Jon Arryn. Just accused me. Of adultery." "Well isn't that true, sweet sister?" "Hush, Tyrion!" Tywin glares at him while Jaime restrains a furious Cersei from flying at his brother. "He claims that my children are not Robert's."

Oh. Shit. Three faces look up at her, and Jaime feels his heart break for his sister, when he thinks he sees her eyes full of tears. 

"Oh, Cersei." Tyrion slips his hand forward and clasps hers. The spell breaks when she immediately shakes him off. "Don't touch me you filthy imp!" She stands up quickly. "You're just as bad as the rest of them!" She paces in the garden pavillion. "He dares challenge the paternity of my children. I am NOT Robert! I do not sleep with every man I see. And I do not let men I am not wed to impregnate me!" She nearly shrieks.

It is Tywin who recovers first. "And why, pray, would Arryn have such a notion?" Cersei turns to him. 

"Stannis."

"Stannis?"

"His brats. Black haired, each and every one of them. All of Robert's bastards have his hair. And Arryn seems to think that mine are not his. Because of that."

"Children can have different hair colours. Look at the Starks." "But not Baratheon brats. Black haired, to the dawn of Westeros." She snaps, and in her eyes they see her very real fear.

There is a pause. None of them know what to say. Were it any other woman, Jaime would ask her to talk to her husband. Not Cersei though. He wondered how Robert had reacted.  _He_ would have punched anyone who dared accuse his wife like that. And father would have slit a man's throat for daring to hint at adultery and Joanna Lannister in the same breath. But Robert?

"He hasn't told Robert yet." Cersei says, levelly. "But he will. And Robert will believe him."

Jaime looks at his lap. It was supposed to be a good day, today. One he could forget, fast. But not this. His mind flits to her children. Joff was a prick, yes, but with an overindulging mother and an indifferent father... that was no excuse though. He thinks of Tommen, sweet, gentle and a lover of cats. He pictures him, clinging to Brienne's large hand, calling her Aunt Brie, as she laughed and mussed his hair, that day at the ice cream store. And Myrcella, pretty little girl, lonely little princess. Waiting for Stannis to arrive on Christmas day with his daughter in tow, and dimming visibly when he told her that Shireen was with her cousins, the bastards.

Perhaps, he reflects, Robert's bastards have it better than his trueborn kids. In some ways. And maybe in the long run, too.

He needs to run interference. Protect his sister, and the children from whatever designs that the Seven are up to.

Their father is grave. "Well." He says. "He has no proper genetical evidence, only circumstance. So you should not get too angry over it. Or worry overmuch." "But Robert won't ask for genetic evidence if Jon Arryn brings it to him. He'll lap it all up, and it's goodbye Vienna for the kids." Tyrion points out. He's absolutely right and they all know it. "He can't do it. Not after all that I gave up for him." She says, vehemently. That's an exaggeration of sorts. Marriage never stopped Cersei from having her own way. She could manipulate Robert beautifully when the need arose.

"We do have to stop him from planting seeds of suspicion though." Jaime offers. "And how do you propose to do that?"

How indeed. "Broker peace." Says father. "What?" "With Robert's family. His brothers. Stannis, preferrably. And perhaps the odd one, too." Tyrion laughs out loud at the suggestion. "That's rich. She insults one in the middle of his office and lets Joffrey call the other a fag on Christmas day. If you think forgiveness is coming, well father, I think you're losing your touch." "Robert doesn't give a damn for his brothers. Or his kids. All that matters to him are Stark and Arryn. Their word against yours and you're doomed. The best ally you can have right now is Eddard Stark." "Who is a Stark. The wolf bitches brother." Cersei snaps. And it is clear that there's no peace from that front either.

A harsh disquiet falls on them, smothering out the weak sunlight. It is Jaime who breaks it. "Everything is going to be alright, Cersei." She glares at him in response. 

"And if it doesn't?" 

It is Tyrion who answers this time. "If it doesn't you're not alone. You are a Lannister, and, as much as I hate you, I will be there for you if anything goes wrong, alongside Jaime and father." 

"And if he does cast you aside, we will have our vengeance." Tywin says, deadly and calm. Cersei smiles at long last. "A Lannister always pays his debts." she replies. He returns it to her, surprising the boys. The only time they'd ever seen him smile like that was when Arya Stark had beaten him out at a game of poker at a Baratheon social.

"Now," he says, returning to his cool demeanour, "what do we do about your brother-in-law's gay wedding?"

 

When the boys emerge from the Lannister house, they have a splitting headache apiece. It was sick, listening to their father talk about Renly and Loras's wedding as if it was a sin. Granted Jaime disliked both pansies, on account that they were far too familiar with Brienne, but still...

"Well, brother, I should be getting back." Tyrion says, smiling. "Rough day ahead." "Bad business at work?" "Of sorts. Oberyn Martell's trying to set Stannis up with some hot foreign girl. And considering everything, I say it's going to end with a bang." Jaime hoots with laughter. "Well, wish him luck for me will ya?" He snorts.

He shoots a quick text to Brienne, telling her to meet him at the coffee lounge at Lannisport. When she arrives, she is late, but her eyes are full of joy.

"Can you believe it?" She laughs breathlessly. "Renly and Loras want me to be one of their maids of honour! I'm so-" "Elated?" he querries. "Yes and so happy and surprised and nervous. They're not joking, I mean. Can you imagine? Me? In his rainbow themed wedding? He's got seven maids of honour, they call it the rainbow guard and that's so sweet cheesy, but still..." She's out of breath and full of joy and Jaime can taste all of that when he kisses her in the middle of the street. 

"Of course, I can imagine it." He says, softly hand on hand, forehead on forehead. "And I hope they dress you in blue. You'll be the prettiest in the rainbow guard in my eyes." She blushes. "Only you," she says, before he kisses her again.

"Only me." He repeats, softly.

 


	13. Oh me oh life oh drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An insight into Renly, Loras and the rainbow wedding. Featuring Marge and Grandma Olenna.

"...And so the puff fish is finally happy with the arrangement. I don't see why you two can't get married at High garden, like all the other Tyrells." Grandma Olenna surveys her grandson and his fiance over her pink paper notes. Suffice to say neither of them can hold her gaze for long. Olenna was that kind of Grandma. Pretty awesome, according to Margaery, inspiring according to Brienne and simply bloody terrifying in Loras's eyes.

"Renly wants to marry at Storm's end." Loras interjects, clasping his hand. He knows that it's all Renly can do to make up for his less than adequate family. Storm's end was a nice old place by the sea, though perhaps March woud have it stormy and ill at ease. But it was home to Renly. And Stannis. And maybe Robert too, in a fashion. It would have been a little sad to not have something Baratheon for the wedding. 

"And, my my my. A rainbow themed wedding? What on Earth gave you such a strange notion? Tell me Loras, was this you or is your fiance a bigger fool than I pegged him for?" Loras is quiet. And Renly steels himself. "It was our decision." He replies. "Our decision as a couple. As Renly and Loras. And seeing as there'll be more of those decisions to come, we thought to start out with our wedding theme. After all, it's  _our_ wedding." He finishes it off with a polite smile. He knows he sounds much less nervous than he really is. Olenna seems to buy it. "And there I thought you'd taken more after that Lannister brother of yours. Seems there's a little Durrandon in you after all, hmm? But, really. A  _rainbow_ themed wedding?"

"I think it's a fantastic idea." Oh, brilliant. Just peachy. Margaery. Olenna's unashamed favourite child and heiress of all her charms. For once Olenna looks piqued. "Is it?" Margaery shrugs. "They've got seven bridesmaids." "Maids of honour!" Renly and Loras correct at the same time. Margaery waves her hand. "Whatever. I think you should see the caterer's lists Grandma." And effectively draws Olenna's attention away from the two grooms. 

He sneaks a glance at his lover. Loras handsome with his long sugar brown curls and murky green eyes. Delicate, deceptively so. He was strong and muscled. And there was something undeniably handsome about him. His walk, his talk, his sultry sultry laugh. He loved that laugh. Since the day they crossed paths properly in year 11. In high school. He remembered feeling like he'd run a mile in a second. And that Robert had asked what had gotten him so red in the face. He'd only shook his head then, afraid to talk about all of that. 

Robert was married, then. And Cersei was a harpy, even then.

Loras Tyrell. What a sweet name. There was something sweet about it. And rosy. Like a reach rose. Not that they got along so swell at first. He was the theatre boy and Loras lived for the football pitch. They'd shared years of schooling, but only spoken when they got paired together for English. 

"shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Seriously?" Loras had asked, and then proceeded to explain why he would not compare any girl to a summer's day. And Renly, ever the Shakespeare lover, had inexplicably burst into peals of laughter. Loras had looked pleased with himself, and though Renly had given him a frightful chiding over mocking the master of English literature, it doesn't diminish the streak of familiarity that had appeared oh so suddenly.

They'd become friends quickly. Quicker than most people getting to know each other recently. It was like they'd know all their lives. Which was weird. The Renly of today would know that it was a growing attraction. The Renly of then did not. And had no one to ask from. All he knew was that he felt akin to Loras Tyrell in a way that simply could not be proper. 

He loved Loras as Loras, but he wanted to hold his hand, hug him and even kiss him. Tell him all those secrets he hid from the world. Learn all of Loras's secrets. He didn't know why, but he felt like something turned out right, not matter what was wrong, when Loras Tyrell was in the room. 

It terrified him. 

_Many years later, the only brother he would talk to had told him that he'd practically rented out the bathroom every other day for his sob fests. Renly remembered the tears, but not that much._

They were in the upper sixth when Renly finally figured out he was attracted to Loras. He had hoped it would slide. There was no way Loras could be interested back, and there was no way Renly could jeopardize the bond that they had between them. Loras had taken up a huge space in his heart, and it was so strange how he had done it in such a short time. They were best friends and now best friends wasn't enough.

A more observant boy, though, would have realized that Loras was attracted to him in equal measure. As Loras himself had.

And so it was Loras, who made the first move. 

It was Renly's last school drama, and Renly was going out with a bang as Hamlet. He'd done it and done it in style, and the audience, they'd encored and encored and encored. There was a twinge of sorrow that hit at the thought that neither of his brothers were there to see him. 

He'd been in the dressing room, his costume half hanging off his body with its laces untied when Loras Tyrell barged into the room with a bunch of pink roses, and promptly kissed him smack on the mouth. 

Half a heartbeat later, Renly Baratheon had returned the favour in full vigour. 

They broke away, forehead on forehead.

"I'm sorry. But I had to." "Don't be. I loved it."

"I'm glad you did."

It wasn't all roses though. Loras had come out to his family that very night. Mace had been furious, his brothers, mildly curious and Margaery had been all elated. Gran Olenna had been very quiet, and then to everyone's surprise, had asked to meet Renly before giving her verdict. 

That had not gone too well. But then again, what the hell else did one expect from Olenna Tyrell? Then again, she had been the one to bring Mace to when he was being rather adamant about it all. 

Renly, on the other hand...

He'd hid it as much as he could. For nearly three years, truth be told. To Robert, it was always "I haven't met anyone I like yet." Bad move. He'd been dragged to the nearest Lyseni Club to pick up a pretty girl and get wasted. He couldn't look Loras in the eye for days. 

To Stannis, all he ever said was, "I'm rooming with my friend in Uni." Never implying how much Loras meant to him. It hurt Renly, all the hiding. But he figured he was a coward. A coward who couldn't face his two brothers. It had driven Loras mad. To the point of near break up.

And then Mya had happened. 

Well, not exactly happened, she'd been alive for two years then. But Stannis had found out and had exploded at Robert. And Robert had retaliated with a few cruel jabs in turn. It was obvious he would not take charge of the child, his own blood. Currently rotting in an orphanage somewhere near the Eyrie. Stan had gone out to see the child that very night. 

Three months later, in the aftermath of the worst row Renly and Loras had ever had, Renly had come home to find a tired looking Stannis in the kitchen, with a scrawny two year old on his hip. "Renly. Meet our niece, Mya. She'll be living here with us for a while. At least, until I move out, which will be... soon. And that was when Renly had finally gutted up to say it.

Hell, if his brother could bring Robert's two year old bastard into their house, without exploding, he could take Renly's closet speech.

"Stannis." He began. "I'm gay." Stannis raised his eyebrow.

"I wasn't aware that was a recent development."

 

Varra, Shara, Shireen, Cella, Mya, Brie and Marge. Seven maids of honour at the wedding, though the "maiden" status of two of the seven was dubious. That was their idea. One of the very few that had gotten in through Wedding planner- super Grandma Olenna's hood. She'd taken over the whole wedding, with her two evil minions; one, her grand daughter, heiress to all charms and witticism. The other, Renly's gawky PA who had somehow managed in the past few months to attract the attention of the harpy's less awful twin.

Really. Turn into yellow banana eating puffs, and Marg and Brie would make perfect minions worthy of despicable Olenna.

Of course, the two poor grooms had little say in what their wedding was going to be like. "But really," Marge had said. "All you need to know is that it's going to be the biggest wedding in the history of Westeros. Bigger than anything Cersei could come up with."

That was not a good way to settle wedding nerves. 

Then again, had it been up to Stannis and his nieces to run the wedding... no. No. That just was so not right. 

Stannis would make them dress in grey and the kids would throw paint instead of confetti. Not a good combination.

Kids. He'd had plenty of practice with Edric, when it came to them, but sometimes, his brother was a mystery he didn't want to ponder on. 

Eh. King Robert of every maiden's dreams- unhappily married and drunk. Renly the shakespeare geek- gay, engaged marriage counsellor. And Stannis why-so-serious- Single parent with six brats. What a trio they were.

"Hi, Brie, we've settled on the flowers. Are you out, 'cause I need you to pop into FnJ's to sort it out. Eh, Brie, what on Earth is that? Is there someone..."

Marge and Brie. Going over the last details. Loras slides in next to him, and puts his hands around his waist. Little things like that make Renly glad he's in love and getting married to Loras Tyrell.

There's a moment of peace.

"Oh my HOLY rock-a-rolling SEVEN! BRIENNE TARTH YOU DID NOT JUST TELL ME THAT...." Margaery is screaming into the phone as Loras disentangles himself momentarily to kick the door shut.

Well. Renly thinks, sinking into his fiance's embrace.

Looks like there's three dubious maidenheads on his table. 

 

 

 


	14. One wolf two wolf three wolf four (and all the way up to six)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring the Starks and a scheming Oberyn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so major apologies to all my readers for the disaster that was chapter 13. (For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, well let's just say that the chapter got cut off quarterway through during uploading owing to the precarious internet connection in my part of the world ) Also a thank you for pointing it out, because leaving that unfinished would be like so... weird.  
> Anyways...

It's a perfectly calm friday afternoon. There's nothing Bran Stark enjoys more than an afternoon to himself without his hellspawn siblings and some of their significant others. Except maybe an afternoon with the Reeds. In Uncle Rhaegar's gigantic library. Heleans over from his spot on the couch and opens another tub of choc chip ice cream. Life is goood... "Gendry I told you, no! I am  _not_ coming to the wedding as your date."

Or not.

"Okay. Reason one: I'm not some pretty bird flower. Reason two: You take me out, Jon and Robb disembowel you, and Your Uncle Stannis ships them off to be fried at the will of his ex-girlfriend and then it comes to war. Reason 3: If coming with you as a date to Renly Baratheon's wedding means I'll have to suffer through Joff the he cunt and Cersei Lannister, I'd rather room with Sansa for the rest of my life.

Arya. The older sister from the seven hells. On the phone with her boyfriend, Gendry Baratheon. Bran knew Gendry from the many things that Arya had said about him and knew his face from one of Jon's many stalking expeditions that he'd had to join in Robb's absence. It was weird though. His sisters and their choice of boyfriends. Sansa the perfect daughter had chosen a rough, rugged, abuse victim with a burn on the side of his face, who was ten years older than her and Arya had started going out with the natural son of their father's best friend, a boy raised to mind his p's and q's, even though he was a sullen old bugger. 

Then again, sweet Sansa needed a strong man to keep her safe, and a level headed boy was good to keep Arya in her place, Mother had said at some point. 

If only Robb and Jon Stark had gotten that memo. There was never a date they did not stalk and rarely a day they did not get caught. Sansa only rolled her eyes and ignored them, but the first time Arya had caught them, Jon hadn't been able to hear a thing for hours. But knowing Arya, and knowing her as well as Jon did, stalking every last date was probably for the best. 

"Ugh, Gendry you are such an idiot." Arya says, slamming the phone down. "What's up, Arya?" She snorts and gives him that look. "Can you believe it, the idiot wants me to be his date at his Uncle Renly's wedding. One of the groomsmen, he says. So  _I'm_ supposed to be at Renly B's wedding, which will be attended by Douchebag B, the Witch queen and Joff the prick. And while Gendry may make up for a lot of shit, he won't be enough to force me to the same room as the biggest cunt on the planet. Plus, Stannis nad Gendry's sisters will be there. And his brother. That's like no privacy."

"Privacy for what?"

"Privacy for what?" Fabulous. 

Sansa.

"Nothing to worry your empty little head about little bird." Little bird was Sandor's nickname for their oldest sister, and the source of much mirth for Arya. However, Sansa does not back down so easily. 

"Privacy for what?"

"Gendry wants her to be his date at Renly B's wedding. She's bemoaning the fact that she won't get a moment with him." Bran supplies helpfully. Arya glares at him. "Shut up, Brandon." "Just trying to help."

"Well, you're not really." Sansa supplies helpfully. "Hey, you're supposed to be on my side of the argument!" "Actually, I'm neutral." "And I wasn't aware there was an argument."

"Arya, honey, there's  _always_ an argument when you open your fat mouth." "My mouth ain't as fat as Meera Reed's Bran Stark."

"And who, may I know, is Meera Reed?"

Robb. And Rickon. Bran facepalms mentally.

"Howland Reed's daughter." He replies at the same time as Arya and Sansa say "Bran's crush."

He blushes bright red. "Is  _not!_ " "Oh yeah?" "Yeah!" "Says who?" "Me!" "Right. As if that proves anything." "Don't need to prove anything to  _you_ Arya Stark! Meera's my friend! Besides, she's cool. She wouldn't like me..." he gestures at his pretty much useless legs. 

"Aww, Bran, you know that isn't true." Sansa takes her mothering voice. "Meera likes you." "How d'you know?" "Well... call it Sansa's intuition." "Or not 'cause Sansa's intuition is pretty much based on medieval ballads than proper intuition. Isn't that what Hound always says?" "Arya I would appreciate it if you stopped calling my boyfriend that. His name is Sandor." "Why are we talking about your boyfriend? He gives me the creeps." "Oh shut up Robb. No one asked you. You'd think sometimes  _you're_ worse than Jon." "Excuse me?  _Me?_ Worse than  _Jon?_ Grow up, Sansa! I have a girlfriend. Jon doesn't even have a crush on a girl!" "Which is weird. You think he's gay?"

"He isn't." They all stare at Rickon who is decidedly left out of the conversation. "Say what?"

"Osha said that her cousin Ygritte likes Jon. And I saw Jon talking to her at the bus stop. He was all... mushy." He looks at them innocently, as they try to process what he just said.

"Hi guys, you would not believe what Oberyn d- agh!"

Jon Stark is pulled into the living room and onto the couch faster than one could say bloodraven.

"You, Snow, have a lot of questions to answer. Most of them starting with the letter Y."

 

"So, do you think she'll like Dornish Red wine?" Oberyn leans over Stannis's desk again. For the third time that day. Stannis grits his teeth. 

"Who, Oberyn?" Oberyn chuckles.  _And so, one microscopic crack on your wall, Baratheon._ "Why the lady in Red, of course. The mysterious lady in Red. She likes Red clothes, red jewels, red shoes... mayhaps she'll like red wine. Such a thrill, finding a fair maiden." "I suggest you ask Tyrion Lannister. He seems to know a lot about women."

Oberyn gives a mock air of shock. "Lannister? But he is an imp, and unmarried. Surely my dear Stannis, you who are a Baratheon and a widower would know more about women than a lonely bachelor."  _But the bachelor is quite the ladies' man, and the widower never really knew his own wife._

"I am sorry to disappoint you, but you may be incorrect in your assumptions."  _Please stop talking about your red lady with me._

"Am I really?" Stannis takes a deep breath.  _Steady on. This is just another difficult conversation with a stubborn child._ "Oberyn, if I knew how to assist you on this case, I truly would. However, I have no prior acquaintance with your red lady, so I am  _really_ out of my depth."

Oberyn Martell's smile widens impossibly. "Oh, don't you, dear Stannis?" Stannis stops. Takes another visible gulp of air. Grits his teeth. "Yes, Martell, quite sure. Or perhaps not, considering that you have not given me a name."  _Please, don't let it be Melisandre. Not Melisandre._

"Haven't you guessed yet?" "I dislike guessing games, Martell. Haven't you any work to get done?" "I'm fast. They call me the red viper in Dorne. Fast. And lethal. In and out of work." "Charmed." "Aren't we all?" If Stannis did not know better, he would say Oberyn Martell was  _flirting_ with him.

Then again. Stannis Baratheon knows just as much as Jon Stark.  _You know nothing Jon Snow._

Stannis knows even less. 

 

Oberyn Martell was not a man to give up easily. But Stannis was proving to be more difficult than he'd pegged up for. Not Rhaegar standards just yet, but then again, close. However, he  _had_ promised Melisandre.  _You'll have a second chance, my lady._ He had said. And though she'd given him no answer, he'd seen a sliver of something  _gladness? Hope? Resignation?_ in her dark eyes. Sad eyes. Haunted by something, he knew not what. 

Idly he wondered what had gone down. Had it been Stannis's coldness that had driven her off? Or had it been Stannis who had ended things with her? Questions questions confusion. He could hardly ask Stannis as it was. And all that the Lady had said was that Stannis and she were over for good. And wasn't that a wet answer if he ever heard one?

Then again, she had been with Stannis. Which was pretty much a wet blanket on any woman. No matter how luscious. He wonders what brought them together. Robert's frats? Not bloody likely. Perhaps it was just one of those written in the stars things. After all, each had been the other's last relationship.  _Pining if I ever saw it._

Anyway, it was clear that Stannis the Mannis needed a girl. And no, the kids were not an excuse. He himself had eight girls and had half adopted his niece Arianne at some point in his life. And Rhaegar had met Lyanna only a year after Elia's death. And Egg was a baby then. And hadn't that been Rhaegar's excuse?  _Aegon and Rhaenys need someone who can take care of them._ Though probably without a lot of hefty pushing,Lyanna would probably have remained the children's kinda sorta minder. _  
_

_But could you imagine dour old Stannis letting another woman touch his precious children?_

"Did you ever love, Stanny?" He muses aloud, eyes glinting wickedly.Stannis freezes in his work. "I beg your pardon?" Ah, feign ignorance then. Good. "I asked you if you ever loved." "And how does that concern you?" Oberyn shrugs. "No need to be so defensive. You know what they say. Stannis Baratheon. Dour, uptight bore. Couldn't love for the life of him." "There are different kinds of love."

Oberyn hoots. Across the room, young Jon looks up and winces. He winks at the boy, reducing him to a red faced virginal mess.

"Really Stannis, hiding behind technicalities? Why don't you just man up and face the music?" Stannis is silent for a moment.

"You know, my nephew's friend..."  _girlfriend._ "would tell you that man up is quite a gender stereotyping term. And seeing as there is no music in the room, how can I face it?"

Surprise surprise. Humour? From Stannis Baratheon? Wonders never cease!

"You haven't answered me yet." 

Stannis puts his pen down. And for the first time looks up. "I believe, Martell, Tyrion Lannister is as single. And makes far better company than I. I suggest you ask him all your questions, and he'd be glad to answer."

He smirks at Stannis. "And disturb him in the middle of work? Ah, I couldn't." 

"And what makes you think you are not disturbing me?"

Oberyn leans over the desk. Right into Stannis Baratheon's personal space. 

"Some men, my dearest Stannis, are meant to be disturbed during work. And you, my sweet and sour old man, are one of them."

He hopes that flummoxed him enough.


	15. you gots the poison I gots the remedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Oberyn schemes. Again. Featuring Aegon, Rhaenys and Lyanna. Oh, and Ashara has plans of her own.

"Uncle Oberyn! It's so good to see you!" "It's been so long since we last came around." Ah. Dear Elia's children. Rhaenys and Egg. His precious nephew and sweet niece. He wishes often that he'd taken them to Dorne after their mother had died, but alas, their father was still alive and willing to care for them. Rhaenys, the image of his late sister, with her bronze skin and her black hair. And her smile. That innocent smile. No matter how old she was, she'd still be that sweet little girl on his sister's lap to him. 

And Aegon. The boy he'd have raised to inherit his every last wile. Now far away, being raised by his sourpuss father (still worse than Stannis, it may or may not be a cold day in hell when his position is usurped). Oh well, at least the stepmother was a little wild. He gives Rhaenys a big bear hug and ruffles Aegon's hair.

"Oberyn! You never  _do_ grow old do you? Or fat, for that matter." He looks up, boyish smile on his face. 

Ah, Lyanna. The stepmother. Oberyn had never approved of Rhaegar remarrying so soon after Elia's death. (two and a half years) But then again, Lyanna Stark-Targaryen was a very hard woman to hate.

"Lyanna. Left your pet lizard back home, eh?" She throws her head back and hoots with laughter. Oberyn likes that laugh. She's not serious, never, except for that time he'd visited when Aegon was down with a nasty case of measles. Good woman. Good mother. And she could make Rhaegar smile, with her wild sense of humour.

"The lizard happens to be the father of Rhae and Egg, who, last I recall, are your niece and nephew." "As they still are. My two dragons." He touches their faces as if they were children. "And it's been long since I saw them."

They have a brilliant afternoon. Lyanna's brought lemon cakes.  _My niece Sansa swears by them, and it seems that our Egg's getting a sweet tooth._ They talk about all old things. Oberyn tells them bawdy jokes and stories from the shenanigans of Arianne and the Sand Snakes to the tricks and turns of their mother and Uncle Doran. Lyanna laughs along with them and shares her piece about Eddard, Benjen and the family. Finally though, it is Rhae who asks him the jackpot question.

"So Uncle Oberyn, how many love lives are you messing with these days?" He feigns innocence. "Why sweet niece of mine, do you think me so callous as to meddle with any man's love life? I'm crushed." Lyanna snorts. "Something wrong, Lyanna?" "Oh nothing. But my nephew begs to differ." "You didn't ask  _Jon_ if he was a virgin, did you uncle Ob? Seriously?" "Well I found it rather surprising. He's a handsome lad, even if he's as sour as his old man, meaning no offense Lya." Egg rolls his eyes. "It's  _Jon_ Uncle Ob, he's like... a male version of the maiden. Seriously." "And every maiden need not die a maiden, is that not so, Lya?"

Lya grins. "I  _would_ be happy if you left Jon out of your many schemes though. He intends to take the Black." Oberyn splutters. " _The Black!?"_ Lya shrugs. "It's a Stark thing. One son to Winterfell, one to the citadel and one to the Wall. Robb gets Winterfell, Bran gets the Citadel, Jon takes the black. Their choices, really." But Oberyn is wheezing. "You're being a bit of a drama queen, Uncle Ob. Like Dany." "Rhae!" Rhae glares at her stepmum. "What, mother Lya? She's a crazy whack." "She's your dad's sister."

"Anyways," says Egg smoothly. "It's hardly like my Uncle to stick to one love story. Surely you've got another in the works?" He snickers. Oberyn looks at them pensively. "In fact I do. Problematically, my subject of study seems to be nearly as intractable as your father.

 

"I can't believe you agreed to this one Shir." "What? You practically tied me to the kitchen chair until I said okay." "Still, it's worth something." "Whatever Ashara. Have you got a list?" "I've got it." "Don't look at me Shireen. She wanted to help. So I let her hold the list." "Right. Let's see." 

They're in their room. The one the three of them share. Well, add Mya and there's four of them. But Mya's not home no more. And a good thing too. She might not like their plan.

Ashara sighs. She had hell trying to get Shireen into it. And Shireen reckoned the boys wouldn't even think about it. Gendry would go straight to Uncle Stan and that would be that. Uncle Renly's wedding was coming up, and they were all going to be maids of honour. Along with Uncle Loras's sister and Brie. And Shireen's cousin Myrcella. They were going to have lovely dresses. Hers was to be purple. And Shireen's was green. And Gendry and Edric were the groomsmen. It was so cool.

But Uncle Stannis doesn't have a date. 

And Ashara means to fix that.

"So. Pia, Tansy, Bella, Alayne,  _Sansa?,_ Val and Miss Greyjoy. Seriously? You want to set dad up with the baker lady?" "Well I don't see you with anything better!" Shireen rolls her eyes. "Pia doesn't even like Dad. Tansy's terrified of him. Bella and Alayne don't even know who he is, let alone date him. Val's from up North, she doesn't like Southern men. But _Sansa?_ You do realize that she's Mya's age don't you?" "So what? Her boyfriend's real old anyway." "Not the same thing, little sister. And who the hell is Miss Greyjoy?"

"She's Arya's friend of sorts. From the iron islands." "Well duh, of course she's from the iron islands. Her name's  _Greyjoy._ " "She's Theon's sister." "The one that Arya practically worships?" "Yeah. She's cool though." "Isn't she like, young?" "She's older than Robb and Theon." "Yeah, but..." "Alright then, who do you propose?"

Shireen hands her a neat little list. She's gotten that from Uncle Stan, Ashara thinks, the neatness and the precision. Most of the time.  

"Dacey Mormont, Allyria Dayne, Shiera Selmy... Aww sis! These ladies are so  _old!"_ "Well you think dad's young?" "He's awesome. He can't be seen with an old lady." "Not old, silly. Dacey and dad were on the debating team together. And she's a year younger than him. Perfect match, I think. You'll like Miss Dacey, she's smart and brave. A bit like a mix of Brie and Arya." "Uncle Stan won't like that." "Well you did say we'd make him like her." Deep down Ashara knows that Shireen really isn't happy about this. She thinks that Uncle Stan isn't ready for a girlfriend. Well, Shireen's wrong.  _She's_ the smart one. Uncle Stan always said that she could skip a year soon. Her, not Shireen. But that was a nasty thing to think. 

Shireen didn't want Uncle Stan to date yet, but here she was, helping them.

"So, out of your list, I think I'll say ok to Asha..." "And all the ladies you've picked are old." "Whatever. I think Dacey Mormont is cool, though. Let's try her." "Fine." They're silent for a moment. Until Varrabreaks the silence.

"So is Uncle Stanny gonna kiss the lady?"

 

"Okay. So let me get this straight. You are trying to fix up  _Stannis Baratheon,_ with some creepy exotica fire worshipper Lady from Essos." "Who also happens to be his ex." Lyanna shakes her head. "How much have I missed while I was in the free Cities?" "Eh?"

"Look, when I left Winterfell with Rhaegar, it was considered popular belief that Hell would freeze over the day Stannis got himself a girlfriend. Are we talking about the same guy?" "You mean the stick up the arse barrister with that loony brother who used to stalk you all the way from Harrenhall to Winterfell, who probably never heard the word smile in his childhood? Yeah I think it's the same guy." 

"Woah. Just... woah."

"What? Suspicious of my legendary prowess in making matches work?"

"Absolutely."

"I'm offended. Crushed. I thought the lovely Lyanna would appreciate my skill."

"Right, O great Red viper. anyway, are you sure they want to get back together?"

"Come again?" "Well, Uncle Ob, they'd broken up three years ago, right? So they probably found they couldn't make it." "Only thing is, she has his picture in her purse." "And  _he_ grits his teeth every time I mention the Lady in Red. And I haven't even said her name." "Ah."

"Speaking of which, what _is_ her name? This mysterious Lady?" "Melisandre. de Asshai." "Eh. Can't imagine a girl like that with Old man Stannis." "Not a favourite character of yours, I presume?" "He's Robert's brother. But I'd take him over Robert any day." "So you would. He is after all, a man after Rhaegar's own heart." 

Lyanna and the children laugh. Rhae is the first to recover.

"So Uncle Ob, say the two vict- ah, subjects, did like each other. And really don't want to get together again, what are you going to do?" "Well, he's going to fail spectacularly, aren't you, Uncle Ob?"

He snorts. "Certainly not!"

"Not?"

"Well, if they don't want to get tangled together, they can always be friends with benefits. Or something. After all, Stannis does need to get laid." He grins.

Lyanna slaps her forehead. "And this is why I leave Rhaegar and the small fry at home when we're over to visit."

"Face it Lya. Your husband's a prude. I'd take a good lovemaking session with three lovely ladies all over me over brooding over a harp like dear Rhaegar. Then again, isn't there a certain... erotica to harp playing?"

".... You two did  _not_ just hear that."

 


	16. Will you be my valentine? (Actually, it's a blind date)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the fry really get their show on the road and Stannis gets coerced into a blind date.

"This is not a good idea, Viper." "I didn't ask your opinion, imp. I'm quite so very set on getting it done that way." "Doesn't matter. I'm trying to talk you out of it." Tyrion Lannister swings his legs from the desk as Oberyn Martell paces around his office. The debate of the day is, unsurprisingly, Stannis and his dismal lovelife. 

"Look, so apparently making Stannis jealous didn't work out, so now you're trying to set him up on a blind date with his ex." "AH, but the date does not know that it's Stannis." "Did you talk to her about the blind date?" "...." "Are you serious? I really think you're taking this overboard now." Oberyn snorts. "As if you never do." "I don't!" "Then what do you say to that tall blond lass and your brother?" "That wasn't me! That was Jaime begging me to be his wingman!"

"And this is Stannis being a stubborn prude about how he feels."

Tyrion hops off the desk and waddles over to Oberyn. "Look man, I know you think they're still in love. I know they had a rough break up. I know you think they can work it back out together. But maybe you should just let it go? Try to set him up with some other girl?" "And leave the damsel in disterss? I think not! Besides, desire works best when you've got the one you truly desire in bed with you." "Well, I wouldn't know. I'm more into whoring. Only thing I'm single, and thus, allowed. And what?  _Desire_ works best with the one you desire? That makes no sense, Oberyn." 

"I find that sex often doesn't. Ah, Stark!" 

The boy that just popped his head into the office is blushing profusely. And, Tyrion notices, looks slightly giddy. Like the first time Jaime came home from a purely-platonic-nothing-romantic lunch with Brienne. When he enters, Tyrion notices a bright red scarf tied around his neck.

"I hope I'm not intruding sir," he looks at Tyrion. "But you've got a client in 15. Taena Merryweather, so...She sounded rather insistent that she see you in person instead of one of the interns." Tyrion groans. Tae M was Cersei's favourite minion (PA), and a meeting with her on some legality or another meant something leading back to Cersei.

"Tell me Jon, did she insult you?" "Nothing I would complain about." "I asked you if she insulted you. You're a Stark. I could call you a cockless bastard sired by a wolf on a wildling and you'd still be unoffended." Jon shrugs. "Just the usual. Wolf pup. They think it's an insult. And natural discourtesy." Tyrion nods. So not much to hold over Tae's head for employee harassment.

Oh wait, he'd already played that card.

Meanwhile, he notices, Oberyn is is staring at Jon with a peculiar expression. "Nice scarf." He says. Jon jumps up. "Sir?" "I said, nice scarf." "T-t-thank you, Mr. Martell." "It's a rather cool day," says Oberyn, stalking Jon like a lion stalking his prey. "But then again, I'm sure you're used to a bit of cold." "Y-y-yes, sir." "So why the scarf?" Oberyn smiles widely. "You're wearing a scarf. And you sound awfully jittery today. Are you alright, Jon  _Snow?_ " 

It was hilarious to see how the boy jumped a clean foot in the air. "Excuse me, Mr. Martell," he says, rushing out the door.

Tyrion gives the Dornishman a disapproving look. "Really? Must you bugger the boy so?" "If only you knew, dear imp." "What?" 

"That I happened to spy young Stark with a deliciously wild young lady at the club last night, and well... Lets just say, who knew Ned Stark's boy could kiss a girl like that?"

 

" _That's_ Dacey Mormont?" "Shhh... Varra! She'll hear you." They're hiding behind the hedge, watching Dacey Mormont, Edric and Devan's English coach, potential date candidate#1. So far, so good. Miss Dacey isn't as old as Shara had initially imagined, and was kinda sweet at a glance. "She looks good." Shireen smirks triumphantly. Told ya! blares in the background. "But I couldn't imagine  _her_ with Uncle Stan." "She teaches martial arts at school you know? Arya signed into one of her classes and she said Dacey was awesome." "Yeah. But she's a bit like Arya's mum too." They giggle.  _"Shhh!"_

Dacey Mormont turns around to survey the sound that suddenly erupted. And decides it was nothing. The girls hold their breath. 

"Dace! You home?" "Yeah, practice got cancelled." 

"Who's that?" "Dunno. Probably a friendly neighbour." The friendly neighbour appears out of the house next door. Wearing baking gloves and holding a tray of something.

_"He looks like Uncle Davos on baking day!" "Shhhh!"_

"That's a pity. I made you some choc chip cookies. Kinda like a present of sorts." "Oh, Darry that's so sweet of you!" She gives him a sickly look and picks up a cookie. He grins like a dope. "So. Are you on for Sunday?" "Sunday?" "You know, our movie marathon? We've had it ever since you moved in here." "Oh, just a movie marathon, then?" "Yeah, aren't you up for it?" She grins.  _And with a sinking heart, Shireen recalls the same look on Arya Stark's face before she kisses Gen._

Dacey Mormont pulls the neighbour to her and kisses him so fiercely, that the kiss puts Arya to shame. Or maybe that's where Arya learned it from.

"I'm up for movies, Jon Darry. And more."

 

"Did I mention Stark got laid last night?" "And why would I care?" "Does that not  _scandalize_ you, Stannis?" "I believe engaging in amour is something young people enjoy." Oberyn howls. Clutches his desk and howls. "is something amusing you, Martell?" "Is it just for the young? Tyrion and myself, we beg to differ." "Yes well, that would be Tyrion and you." "And dear Robert." Oberyn enjoys watching Stannis's jaw clench. "Touchy subject?" "Do you have nothing better to do?" "Well I  _was_ annoying Tyrion this morning, but he's gone off to deal with one of dear darling Cersei's minions, and Lyanna's warned me to keep off from Jon, so..." "So you have nothing career related to do."

"Bothering you is entirely career related." Stannis raises an eyebrow. "Oh? And how so?" "Well, it would be for a huge leap in the service quality and interpersonnel relations. Interns fear the grouchy Stannis Baratheon. And you scare the ladies. And their kids." "Kids don't do business with law firms."  _In case you've forgotten, I have six of them. And I don't notice them fearing me._ "Still, you scare them."

"And I suppose the mildly perverted Oberyn Martell, who takes interns on lunch dates and asks rather forward questions bordering on sexual harassment does not frighten them." "Ah, that was just one." "Do you have any idea how furious Eddard Stark was over that debacle?" "Really? Lyanna and co. seemed mildly amused. Anyway..." "Anyway what?"

"I think it would do the firm a lot of good if you got laid once in a while."

 

"Okay, so this is Shiera Selmy, right?" "Right." "You didn't tell her to shut up." "She's too busy having a conversation with someone." "Is that her boyfriend?" "Are you nuts? That's her cousin. "Barristan Selmy's her cousin?" "Uh, yeah. I think so. Oh wait. That's not Barristan Selmy." Shireen notices the man's face for the first time. While he looks a lot like Mr. Selmy, she realizes he's thinner and younger and has a gaunt cast to his face. 

He looks a bit uncertain, and small wonder. Shiera Selmy looks utterly furious over something. 

Oh. Right. That.

"Brynden Rivers, I cannot believe you made me wait for so long to ask that question!"

"Is that a yes?"  _No. Please, no._

She clouts him on the head. "Of course it is!" 

_"Is that a ring in that box?" "Shut up, Varra!"_

 

"So, we have an agreement?" Stannis furrows his brow. "So, I agree to a certain term of yours, and you will stop this... highly unethical and unbelievably unprofessional behaviour?" "You got that mister. But only if you agree." 

"Well, I have to do some things for the greater good."

 

"I cannot  _believe_ it!" "I have to admit that was..." "Unexpected?" "Yeah. I mean, who would have thought it? That's two more people off our list." "Allyria  _and_ Bella." "That leaves like one last person." Varra tugs on both their hands. 

"Yes, smudge?"

"Why was Miss Lyria kissing the lady in the pink house?"

 

"So you want me to go on a..." Stannis clenches his jaw " _Blind date._ " "Relax, Baratheon. It isn't a cuss word." "Well, personally, I think-" "oh loosen up Stannis! You need to get laid and I need to get you laid. Or else your celibacy will drive me round the bend and force me to do something drastic." "Are you always this-" "Charming? Irrepressible? Wonderful?"

"Obnoxious?" "Aw come on Stannis. It's just one blind date! And you won't even know her. Owing to past conversations, methinks I've got a good gauge on your type." "You're disgusting." "Is that a no?" "...." "Or should I continue plying you details on my red lady and asking young Stark how spectacular that love bite he's trying to hide is?"

"Oh, alright. I'll do it. But just one." "Sure!" Oh goodie....

 

"Can I say something Ashara?" "What?" "That sucked. Big time." "I know. Hey, Varra slow down!" "And let me assure you we are _never_ doing this agai-" But Ashara was at a complete halt. "Ashara?" She points.

It's Varra. And she's talking to a lady dressed like a cross between a gangster lady and a cavewoman.

"Is that..." "Oh my God. Hey Miss Greyjoy!"

 

"I wasn't expecting you today, Mr. Martell. And for the last time, Stannis and me are  _over._ It isn't going to change." "well hang Stannis, the dour old goat. Don't waste your time on him." "I beg your pardon?" "Look Mel. I know we're not long acquainted, but you seem too nice to be single. So, um... blind date?" 

"Excuse me?" 

"Blind date. This Sunday. At the Reach."

 

"I'm really sorry about my sister barreling into you like that, Miss Greyjoy." "Aww, no probs kid. She's a cutie." Shireen mentally assesses the lady. 

So, a bit punk. Mildly heavy metal. Definitely tomboy. Good. 

Not serious. Good.

Awful dress sense. Good.

Likes the fry. Excellent.

"So, Miss Greyjoy. This is my not-much-older-but-thinks-she-can-rule-me-older sister Shireen, and the snot's my baby sister Varra." "Pleased to meet you Shireen. Can I call you Shir?"

Where have you been all my dad's life?

"The pleasure's all mine, Miss Greyjoy. Varra, say hello to Miss Greyjoy." But Varra is only staring at Miss Greyjoy,like she's a triple chocolate covered pancake stack Mya just set on the table. "Varr-"

"Will you go out with Uncle Stan on a date this Sunday?"

Ashara and Shireen, exchange glances and mentally facepalm. "Varra!" "But I think she's nice. Nicer than all the ladies you've been looking at." "Varra, shut it. We're really sorry, Miss Greyjoy. Our little sister can get some funny notions into her head." But Miss Greyjoy looks amused and, dare they hope?-mildly flirty.

"Yeah, ma'am it's not like we were-" "Trying to set your dad up with some charming and unassuming young lady? Count me in."

They stare at her. Totally out of their depth. She rolls her eyes. And grins wolfishly.

"Oh, cut it out kids. I used to do the same for my Uncle Vic. Anyway, about your dad. Tell him, Sunday, seven, the Reach. That okay with you? And oh, before I forget. My number." She hands a slip of grey paper to Shireen and saunters off down the street.

Shireen and Ashara stare after her.

"Was that-?" "Yeah."

And all that they can think is...

Hello, future stepmum.


	17. collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Oberyn schemes, Cersei screams and Jaime dreams.

"Hang on Michel, that's my phone. Hello?" Mya frowns. The voice down the line is unfamiliar, and surprisingly sultry.   
"Would this be Stannis Baratheon's daughter?" "Yeah. How can I help you?" Mya doesn't bother correcting him, and saying that she's Stannis Baratheon's niece, because the alternate paternal unit is so horrific, she can't bear even consider it. The voice chuckles. "No you're not, you're his niece, darling. Funny how that seems to slip everyone's minds. Even his own." Mya feels a sliver of irritation. "Well, pardon me Mister, but I believe I don't know who you are." "You don't sweetling. You will soon." This guy was irritating. "Look Mister, I really don't have time to play games with anyone, and I really don't want to bother repeating questions. Who are you and what can I do for you?" 

The guy laughs outright. "Oh, darling, you can't do anything for me. But all of us sure can do something for dear old Stannis." 

 

"I can't believe this." Cersei paces around Jaime's living room. "He's actually taking it to Robert. And You know what? I think Robert will swallow all of it hook line and sinker."  _Only in the face of the astounding possibility that it could be true._ "I mean, apart from Stannis's brats, he doesn't have  _any_ proof. Plenty of dark haired people have blond kids." "Just not Baratheons. I don't think I've ever seen one without that awful black hair. Robert and Renly do, their dad did, I believe. And all those old photos at Storm's End, none of them ever have a not black haired Baratheon, right?" Cersei huffs at the sentiment.

"So? So what? Nearly every Lannister is blonde. Negates the argument." "Yeah but that doesn't change a dusting fuck, Cers. Arryn thinks you're guilty of cuckolding his dear Robert, and you are. It's not like there's any love lost between the two of you." But Cersei is pacing again. "Five bastards," she mutters. "What?" "Five bastards! All of them within our marriage. Do you hear me making a fuss? Do you?"  _Not exactly. Last time you confronted Robert on his whoring, he slapped you._ Jaime still feels the phantom itch of hos fingers as he clenches them. He had jumped on Robert that day, clearly intent on punching the living daylights out of him. He'd have gotten the living daylights beaten out of  out of  _himself_ that evening had not a then-college-aged-and-on-speaking-terms-with-Robert Renly intervened. "This always leads to them, doesn't it? Those black haired brats in that miserable old house, and I forget which one is actually Stannis's. But that's not the point." "The point is, they have mothers from all over Westeros and still manage to be totally and utterly fucking BARATHEON!" Cersei's eyes are full of tears, and Jaime wants to hug her like he used to... before Tyrion was born and mum died.

Coming to think of it, he hadn't held his sister like that since he'd caught her trying to smother the baby. 

_"Cersei, what're you- CERSEI!"  "shut up Jaime. he killed mum." "Cers, please no. He's just a baby." " He's a monster." "He's a baby, Cers. He's our baby."_

Cersei had been so frenzied that day, that for once, he'd been scared of her. Scared of the witch that had posessed his pretty sister. Yeah she was bossy and yes she was mean at times, but he'd never thought she could hurt the baby. He'd waited for her to let his sister back in, but she never returned. And in time, he'd given up on her ever returning. But now, for the first time in forever, he felt like his sister was somewhere trapped in there. 

He places a hand on her arm. "Look, Cers. I know you're upset, and I know this is taking hell out of you. But hey, you've gotta stay strong for the kids. They need you right now. Especially Tommen and Cella. Someone's just about to tell them their dad isn't their dad, and that they don't have a dad. Robert's not much of a parent, but he's all they've got, right?" Cersei looks at him for a minute and he thinks he sees  tiny smile. "I know. But it's hard. Knowing that everything will fall to dust the minute Jon Arryn opens his fat mouth." "She pauses. "If he believes that, do you think he'll take in the bastards?" Jaime mentally facepalms.  _Of course, she'd be upset about that and not the trauma her kids'll have to face._

"Do you think they'd go to him? And do you honestly think Stannis would let them go?"

 

"Eh, Okay. So You want to set Uncle Stannis on a blind date." Gods, it was  _Oberyn Martell._ Ari's Uncle Oberyn. "Quite so. And I need your help. To convince him, or so." "Look Mr. Martell, I'm not even at dragonstone, and if Uncle Stan doesn't want to do something he sticks to it." "Aye, but he'll listen to his eldest, won't he?" "Come again?" "A man's eldest daughter always has the most sway on him. And maybe you can talk your sisters into helping you." "They'd be on it the minute I tell them. Anyway, what's in it for you?" "Oh, nothing. I'm just the concerned co-worker." "Have you approached Uncle Stannis about this?" "I have, and he  _did_ most grudgingly concede. But I feel that a little push from the lot of you would go a long way."

Mya Baratheon is utterly flummed. Eh, seriously? Uncle Stannis, on a blind date? This one required her presence. And a camcorder. Wait. Shireen would be on that. She can't help the grin curling on her face, the one that sticks to her throughout the evening, and when Shireen and Ashara call to say that Uncle Stannis has been set on a blind date at the Reach, she can't help but squeal a little. .

 

Stannis is tired. Evidently, Oberyn Martell seems to think it fitting to set a man up on a  _blind date_ and then enlist his four daughters as minions. His girls had been all, Uncle Stannis, you're going on a blind date all evening, forcing Gendry to kip over at Tobho Mott's and Edric to take the bus out to Renly's. And the smug man behind the plan had oh so smoothly told him that his daughters were in on the date and that he should listen to them on all date related matters. 

"Bad day, Sir?" Jon Stark places a mug of piping hot tea on his desk and offers a little smile. He raises his eyebrows. "I've had worse. My daughters are being slightly... intractable over certain matters." Jon nods sympathetically. If anyone was to understand it would be Stark. "About that blind date, I guess." The boy knew too? Brilliant. Just brilliant. Stark grins apologetically. "Gendry called my little sister last night. And she happened to invade our room after fighting Sansa over something or another. They seem to be elated by the plan." So Stark was siding with  _them_? Betrayal. His entire office was teaming up with his daughters to ruin his life. 

"Stannis fucking Baratheon!" He'd know that voice anywhere. Cersei. The charming sister in law. He shoos young Stark into Tyrion's office and faces the foe. 

"Cersei. And how may I help you today?" She's shaking with fury, he notes. Strange. Gendry's been as good as he can get and surely the others don't go seeking trouble with the Lannisters. No, it didn't seem to be the kids. "You utter bastard."

"I beg your pardon? I'm afraid we don't use such profanities in this office. If there's something that needs be told, you say it straight and to my face." But she's barely listening. She's seething, beyond any rage he's seen, and somehow, Stannis finds himself comparing this image to the only nice image he has of Cersei Lannister; her wedding. "You and Arryn plotted together, didn't you?" Arryn? Plot with me? What on Earth was this woman talking about? Had she finally cracked, or something?

"Cersei, I'm afraid I have no idea what you're on about." "Oh don't you? You thought I'd never find out about your scheme to replace Joff with that boy? Oh, yes. I know you. You and Arryn are making plans to fill up Robert's head with the idea that my children aren't his!" 

The hell? Joffrey Tommen and Myrcella, not Robert's children? What in all westeros was this woman on about? "Cersei, there has to be some mistake. I am not, and never have been privy to any conspiracy with Jon Arryn and even if I was, my presence would only ruin any speck of credibility any accusation has in Robert's eyes." He's still calm. But inwardly, there's a wild hammering in his chest. By Storm's End, what is this mess?

But Jon Stark is back with Tyrion in tow. "Sister." He sounds flinty. "You're drunk." Cersei stares at him, then hauls him up by his collar front and shakes him. "IS THAT ALL YOU CAN SAY, YOU FUCKING MONSTER?" Tyrion seems unfazed by the reaction. Apparently, he's used to it. He straightens his shirt. "The accusation was leveled by Arryn. I suggest you take up any arms you have with him." She's not backing off. "He's in it too. There's no one else to benefit from the news. Just him and his filthy little bastards."

"You will not address them so again." He's calm when he says it, but by the long night, they were his children, and she had no right to speak of them like that! 

She sneers at him. "Why not Stannis? Why shouldn't I? Oh, why I forgot! They won't be bastards anymore once you and Arryn wrap up your little plot, will they? They'll be Robert's little heirs and that's how they'll see them." Her voice is mocking, and Tyrion's called the security to escort her out, but yet again, she leans over his desk to stare him in the eyes.

"Remember this Stannis Baratheon. The day Robert disinherits my children, will be the day that he takes his bastards in. And that day will be the last day you will have your children together."

Stannis feels himself whiten and around him, he can hear Stark, Lannister and even Martell talking to him. He's been sat down at his desk, but there's a buzzing in his head. 

"Don't mind my sister, Baratheon. Jon Arryn's accusations have addled her heas, and by the day, the threat of him going to Robert with it looms close." Lannister cocks his eyebrows at him. "Why, Stannis I'm surprised. Aren't you going to ask me if I think my sister really is guilty?" 

Does it matter, Stannis thinks, despairing inwardly. Does it matter, when he's going to take tear them all apart?

 

"I've never seen her like that, wench, not in a long time. It hurts, that Robert will believe Jon Arryn without a moment's hesitation, and though there's every chance he may be right, she's my sister. I don't want to see her hurt. Or the children. Never the children." Jaime has his head in his hands and is leaning on Brienne's counter top. She's sitting by him, listening. Attentive. Like it matters. Well of course it does, but she's Renly's PA. With every reason to hate Cersei.

She watches him, and his anguish. His feeling of uselessness. The same she felt on the way home with a drunk Renly raving about his brother and his sexuality. She wants to tell him it's going to be alright, but that's a lie.

Three years with Renly and a long long friendship with Marg Tyrell was enough to make her see that the Baratheons were one fucked up family. 

"She's your sister. It's okay to be upset." He raises his head to look at her. And though he looks frustrated, he manages to crack a smile for her. "But you'll have to stand by her, Jaime. You're all she's got." He snorts. "Only you wench." He says. "Only you would be so sympathetic to the woman who tries to crash your dates and drive you off from the first guy you've liked in like forever." She ignores him. There's nothing to say to that, really. "Do you think she's guilty?" He sighs. "There's every chance that she is. The biological evidence seems overwhelming." "At face value, yes. But surely he wouldn't abandon his children, the children he must have held and coddled and loved with a snap of his finger?"

Jaime snorts again. "Clearly you do not know Robert Baratheon. He's got five bastards as of now, and he won't even turn to look at them. What do you think he'll do with his soon to be ex wife's kids who she's been passing off as his own for the last 18 years?" "You're not sure of that." "If Jon Arryn takes it to Robert, it really doesn't matter what the gene tests say. He'll lap it up." "Cersei being Cersei, she wouln't allow it. She'd fight for her children." "Aye, she would. And she's not the only one." Jaime leans into Brienne's hand, the one that's holding his shoulder. 

"Stannis would never let go of his rag tags without a fight either. And they sure as hell wouldn't let go of him." He looks up at her and smiles. "Two broken families and a scandal. I wonder what Arryn would make of that." He turns to Brienne, and traces her jaw, slowly. 

"Thanks for listening." He says, softly. "Any time Jaime. Any time you need me to." But he's rambling on. "I had a dream last night you know. A kind of weird happy total utopia dream. It was weird. And sort of fulfilling." "Oh?" She can't keep the amusement out. First Cersei and now a utopian dream? "We were getting married. You were in blue. I was in Lannister gold. And Renly and Loras were dancing in the pavilion. Wearing green bikinis. And there was a beach. It was strewn with sapphires. And- Brienne, what in the seven hells are you laughing at?" But she can't stop.

"Oh Jaime, you stupid stupid fool." She chuckles, leaning forward. But he moves in faster.

"You know wench. I think I like what the dream was telling me."

 


	18. Every single tiny microscopic little thing must go.........

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There you go Dad. You're almost ready for your date.

"That's the song you danced to with Aunt Selyse at your wedding." Mya says, softly placing a mug of coffee in his hands. "Remember? You let me be your maid of honour. And I was so mad when you wouldn't dance with me. Uncle Renly was like my hero that day, danced with me all night."  _And Dad wouldn't even look at me._ She didn't say. Uncle Stannis seems to be barely listening. He's tense, she sees. 

"Everything's gonna be  _fine,_ Uncle Stannis. You'll see." "I'm not nervous, if that's what you're implying Mya." He bites back. She grins. "Nah. You're just scared. There's nothing to be scared of. It's just a date with just another lady. They go wrong all the time."  _Easy for you to say, Mya._ He thinks, looking back at all those women he'd dated before (and after) Selyse. They'd all been more awkward than he'd like to recall, and certainly more than a little embarrassing.  _How on Earth did I raise you lot to be so comfortable around other people?_

 

The tiny orange transistor radio that their mum used to play on Saturday afternoons has come out of the attic. Shireen's handiwork you could say. And it was playing all those old songs, that they used to love; Mum with her wild hair and dad with his sharp smile. And Robert, laughing out loud over some joke Ned had said the other day, and little Renly, bouncing on his lap, laughing in that way only babies can. And there was him, quiet and serious. And happier than he'd ever dared to be.

"How did you meet mum?" Shireen had asked him one day. "At a office dinner. We were sitting next to each other."  _And I bored her to death with my work related talk._ "Was it love at first sight?" Stannis had snorted. "No." _It was Davos with a side dish of Mya and Renly._ "Oh." Shireen had sounded disappointed. 

"But you loved her, right?"

He had sighed. "Finish your homework, Shireen."

"But daddy-" 

"Now."

She'd been five then. The same age as Varra was now. And now she was nine. 

He looks up to see his (only) daughter grinning at him across the table. "Thinking of mum?" She asks. "No." "No?" "Shireen, stop making small talk."

"Mum isn't small talk. I barely remember her." "I'm aware." 

There's a silence. It happens, between the two of them. Shireen is solemn, sparing with her words, when it comes to him. Quiet, and surrounded by siblings (cousins), three of whom run their mouths like dornish vipers in the sand.

"You're gonna go on the date, yeah daddy?" "I will have to. Seeing as so many people seem to be intent on sending me on my way." Frankly he was highly irritated at Oberyn for dragging all four of the girls into his mess. Mya, okay. Shireen, maybe. But he didn't need to drag in all four of them. 

He'd come home that day to find Ashara and Shireen grinning like two cheshire cats in the living room. "Hi daddy." Shireen was grinning, and there was something very off. Shireen did  _not_ smile like that. And there was something decidedly dornish about Ashara's look. Probably from her mum, that journalist from Starfall. 

"Hey Uncle Stannis." 

"What?"

"Umm... we were wondering?" "Well... to be honest, it was really an executive decision. Of sorts." "Yeah, uh, so... " 

"If you two have something to say, please do spit it out."

"CanyougoonablinddatethissundayattheReach?"

Stannis understood what his girls asked perfectly well, and deep inside, he's absolutely furious. "Would you mind repeating that?" He frowns, as they do. Damn you Oberyn! Damn you all the way North of the Wall. "I hardly see how that's your problem." "But-" "No buts, both of you. This is utterly  _ridiculous!_ I don't know who put this kind of outrageous notion into your heads, but-" 

And that's when Varra had started crying. And try as he may, he can next to never refuse them when they're crying. 

Not that he'd ever admit to it. 

"So Mya's got your shirt ready. And Mr. Martell's coming over just to see." Stannis grits his teeth hard. Shireen wonders why he's so angry. Mya had told them that Oberyn Martell had called her and informed her about the blind date and why-the- _fuc_ hsiaorchid-couldn't-the-two-of-you-tell-me-beforehand-if-you-knew. 

Shireen assumes that Dad had told Mr. Martell about the date, and he was being extra enthusiastic about it. From what Dad said, Mr. Martell was like that. A bit funny in the head.

And as if on cue, the bell rings.

"Hello, beautiful. You must be Ashara." "Yes, Mr. Martell?" "Aye that would be me, lady. Is your da ready for his date?" "Not quite Mr. Martell. Do sit down and wait."

 

He feels like a complete fop. 

The girls have done their worst on him, and Stannis feels less like Stannis Baratheon and more like Loras Tyrell fresh out of a shopping mall. "Relax, daddy. You look great." Shireen tells him, taking his hand. He squeezes it back for comfort. Not that he means to. 

She gives him a kiss on the cheek. "That's for luck."

He almost thinks he's ready. He's glad the boys are out tonight, doing- well, whatever boys do on Sunday evening.

Well, at least (hopefully) Robert and Renly won't hear of this. Or Davos.

Problematically, Davos is in the kitchen. With Martell. Talking. Like old friends.

"Eh, yeh look younger than you usually do, Stannis. The little lasses have done a good job on yeh." There's something in Davos's eyes. Friendship? Happiness? Pride? It makes the sinking feeling in Stannis abate. Just a little.  

"Uncle Stannis looks like Prince Charming!" Proclaims Varra. He stifles a snort. Unsuccessfully. Oberyn Martell smiles at her. And turns to Stannis. "Every girl thinks her da is prince charming when she's five. All eight of mine did. Some of them still do. Anyway, Baratheon. You should get going. It wouldn't do, to leave the fair lady waiting."

Stannis glares sharply at him. "He's right, lad. You should get on with it." Davos claps his shoulder, reassuringly.  _Everything's going to be fine._

"So I should." He says, slightly awkward. "'Night, all. Mya, put the girls to bed by 9, and lock up. I'll be taking the spare keys."

 

"Well, that went good." Mya smiles. "Yeah. I thought we'd have hell getting him out of the house." Shireen snickers at her. "Meanwhile, is bedtime really 9?"

Mya sneaks a look at Davos and Oberyn, who's settled with a mug of coffee. Davos pretends not to see. Oberyn gives her an almighty wink. 

"Naah."

"You think he'll like her?" Varra asks them, leaning on Shireen's leg, drowsily trying not to fall asleep. "Of course he will! Everyone likes miss Greyjoy. Everyone." Ashara says. "She's like the perfect future Stepmum."

There's a silence. The kind like the calm before the storm. 

"Miss Greyjoy?" Oberyn Martell asks, politely. Ashara nods.

"Yeah. Asha Greyjoy. She teaches at the local high school. And takes art lessons at the community center."

"Asha Greyjoy? When did you set this up?" It is only then that Shireen feels a sliver of dread.

"Oh, last Monday afternoon. We were looking for a lady to set Daddy up with, and she was, like awesome." " _I_ was the one who asked her if she'd go on a date with Uncle Stannis. She said she's okay for Sunday at the Reach." 

To their surprise Oberyn doubles up and bursts into laughter. 

"Well if that doesn't beat it all! Looks like dear old Stannis will have two dates tonight."

There's a pause.

"Come again?"

He stops laughing and grins. 

"You see dear children. I set your da up on a date myself. A very successful date, which I believe will rekindle a new flame in him. Coincidentally, at the Reach, today, at seven."

Pause again.

"You mean  _that's_ what you phoned me about? Not what these two had planned out?" Mya opens up the intrusive silence.

"Yes. I was under the impression that it was you who had informed your sisters."

"And you two, had set your own thing up, separately."

"And we thought someone had told you about  _that._ "

"So lemme get this straight. There are two ladies, waiting for Uncle Stan, at the Reach, on a blind date." "So it seems."

"Oh snap."

"Yeah. Snap."

Oberyn Martell looks at the girls reassuringly. "Oh, don't you worry girls. Your father's in for a carthartic experience. There are some ghosts he needs to lay down, to get his fair lady back."

They've go nothing to say to that. 

"Wait a minute? Did you say  _back?"_

"Why yes, Mr Seaworth. I do believe I've set him up with an old flame of his. A very... flamey flame. She loves him. He seems to love her. Too bad about your candidate, girls."

The silence that greets him is very different from the one before. 

"Old flame?" Davos ventures, carefully. "Yeah. He loved her, I should think. At least, she loves him."

The tension only increases.

"Love?" He nods.

Davos swallows slowly. 

"Mr. Martell, you did not set up Stannis with a lady called Melisandre de Asshai, did you?"

He nods brightly. Only to notice that the tension's escalated past crack point.

"Is everything al-"

"FUCK!" Mya bursts out. But it seems that no one looks all that shocked at the word.

Davos stares her down. And stands up.

"Children, I do believe we need to get to the Reach with immediate effect."

The girls scramble ahead of him, suddenly tense and harried. Oberyn follows them, feeling mildly out of his depth.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. Is something wro-?"

"Get into the car Mr. Martell." Davos Seaworth turns to him, suddenly looking as stern as a sea captain.

"I do believe we have a long explaination to give."


	19. Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, world. I can't handle this any more.

Stannis shivers momentarily before stepping into the warmth of the Reach. Februaries are not meant to be so cold. Not this close to March anyway. Winter had come and gone, and Spring was just around the corner.

Calm down he thinks. It's just a date. 

He pauses to look around. 

_Red dress._

There's only one woman wearing a red dress. And she looks up at him and smiles.

_Dark haired, grinning tomboy._

"Stannis Baratheon, I believe?" She says.  _Hmm, interesting voice. Salt, sea, smoke._ It reminds him of Davos and Dragonstone, and that's always a comforting feeling. "Asha Greyjoy. Pleasure to meet you." Dumbly he shakes her hand, letting her take the lead. She leads them off to a secluded little corner of the cafe, right next to the window. He could see the city and Blackwater bay from there, and it left him with a feeling of pleasantness. 

He'd always felt kindred to the sea. Like Mya and the Vale mountains. When they were younger, mum had sat with him on the front porch of Storm's End for ages, watching the sea roll in and out of the beach for hours and hours. It lulled him, that sense of rolling in and out. And all his life, since Steffon and Cassana had died, he'd chased after that feeling. And here was this girl, with dark hair and dark eyes, that seeems to bring in the sea with her wherever she went.

"So, Ashara says you like Classics." Asha says. Stannis snaps his eyes on her. "Ashara?" "Oh, yeah Ashara. You know, half dornish seven year old with black hair and purple eyes. Happens to be your niece?" Stannis is sorely tempted to crack a smile. "I know who Ashara is. I'm more or less interested in how she happens to know you." Asha's eyes light up, glinting in the dim light. "That little minx!" She snorts, before bursting into a cackle. Stannis is mildly nonplussed. "I'm afraid I don't quite follow." She grins up at him. 

"You wouldn't. But to answer your first, Ashara's in my painting class at the community Centre. She's one of my best painters." "Ah, so it's you I must blame for all the ruined dresses and the paint stains we scrub out every weekend. I was wondering about asking Ashara's Art Teacher if the word 'apron' was a taboo in her class." 

Asha Greyjoy cracks up with laughter again, and Stannis wonders when the last time he made a woman laugh like that on a date was.

 

_"So you're telling me she tried to **burn** Edric?" Oberyn asks incredulously, wide eyed and possibly doing a mental facepalm. Mya shrugs. "That's what it looked like at the time." Oberyn shakes his head. "But she loves him! And he loves her! Why the sunspear would she do that?" Mya shrugs again. "Possessive lover," "She wanted something more from him." Davos adds at the same time. _

_Oberyn looks at him questioningly. "She loved him, aye I won't deny it. She wanted him to come away with her. Run to Essos, to Asshai. She wanted him to embrace his destiny, reach for his stars... you get my drift. Thought he was some lightbringer reborn, out of one of her crazy R'hllor legends." "She wanted-" "Basically he wanted Stannis to stop being his brother's doormat. To stop clearing up his messes. That he was better than that." Davos rubs his forehead._

_"I can't believe this is happening." Gendry snarls, getting into the car, Edric close at heel. "It took us ages, fucking ages to get her out of his head, and now some can't-keep-his-fucking-hands-to-himself, sex crazed douchebag ends up wrecking it all for us." He shoots him a sharp glare, and if looks could kill, Oberyn figures he would probably be a messy puddle on the floor. "Bull," Mya warns from the side. He thinks he ought to be grateful, only to find her glaring at him with equal ferocity._

_"I'm sorry, I really thought-" "We get it, Mr. Martell, we get that you didn't know." Edric, the polite boy, says calmly. "But that doesn't change anything."_

_But there's still a snag in the reel of silk. He turns to Davos, who observes him shrewdly through the rear view mirror. "There's one thing I don't get though. Stannis really does need to stop covering for Robert. And to stop clearing up the many messes he makes. You know it. I know it. The kids know it. Lannister and Stark know it." "Yes, and so?" "What I really don't get is why the hell you want him to stay the hell away from a girl who wants just that."_

_There's a silence that fills up the space. the kind that used to follow Rhaegar everywhere (before he married Lyanna)._

_In the end it's Mya who answers him. And to his utter shock, he realizes her eyes are full of tears._

_"Mr. Martell, you do realize all of Robert Baratheon's biggest messes are in the car with you, right?"_

_Oh fuck. Scratch that._

_Fuck._

 

Asha's in the middle of a hilarious story, that's got her in complete stitches. Were he any other man, he'd be in stitches too. It includes fishing, a dead bait, her baby brother and his best friend (possibly crush) the eldest Stark boy, and her dressing up as a pregnant sailor woman just to get her old sober-priest Uncle Aeron drunk on a cask of Drowned God Rum. He cracks a smile instead. And remembers he has a question to ask.

"How do you know Oberyn Martell?" "Oberyn who?" Asha asks, pausing a moment. "Oberyn Martell. You know, that outrageous Dornish barrister who loves japes and women, both in excess, with absolutely no idea of personal boundary? Who, you know, set up this date today?" He expects Asha to laugh, but no. He finds her frowning. "Is something-"

"It wasn't a sex crazed barrister who set me up today, Stannis. It was the girls." "The... girls?" "Your girls. Ashara, Shireen and Varra." He feels a rush of cold air down his back. "My girls?" "They met me on Monday afternoon and asked me to go on a date with you. Which you'd probably be mad at them for, but on the other hand I used to do the same for my Uncle. Stannis are you alright?" He snaps up to meet her gaze and manages a sort of queasy smile.

"I'm fine. But I'm afraid, there's a slightly problematic issue at hand." He thinks fast. If Asha wasn't the woman Oberyn set him up with, who was? 

As if on cue, the doors of the Reach swing open and he feels a pair of red brown eyes zone in on him. And he smells the Essosi spice perfume before he sees the red of her dress.

 

Mel, is late. Spectacularly and fabulously late. And she blames Thoros. 

_"I can't believe you agreed to anything that madman said to you, after all the goading he did about Baratheon!" He snapped through the screen. Mel rolled her eyes. "Thoros, relax. I'm going on a blind date with a stranger. Not going out to meet Stannis Baratheon." Thoros huffs. "I still think you should have Beric on speed dial tonight. And what the hell are you doing trying to get in with a Westerosi man? You're coming back home next month!" "I know! But Thoros, just let me. Just this once."_

She should have listened to Thoros. She really should. Oberyn said that he would be wearing a dark grey button down. And there was only one man in the Reach wearing a dark grey button down. And now that Mel looked at him properly, he looked as handsome, as regal as ever. 

Stannis Baratheon. The ex. Who is currently with another woman. 

Mel heads off quickly towards the bar. "One Essosi Strong please. The strongest you've got. As fast as you can."

 

"So you're telling me that your sex crazy, dornish co-worker set you up on a blind date." "Yes." "With your ex." "Yes." "Incidentally on the same schedule as your daughters set you up with me." "Yes." "Wow. That sucks."  _Quite so._ "So you gonna go talk to her?" He raises his eyebrow. "what? It's gonna look mighty rude if you don't say a thing. Go talk to her." Stannis looks stricken for a minute. "I don't think I can." "And why the fucking hell not?" "Because she just saw me. And she's getting drunk."

 

_Incoming call; Jaime._

_"This had better be good big brother. It's my off night. And Ros is coming over. So talk. And talk fast." There's heavy breathing down the line. "Jaime?" "T-t-tyrion?  Is that..." "Okay big brother, now you're just freaking me out. The fuck is up with you?" There's a pause. "Jaime?" "L-l-little brother. You need to-" The words lose their clarity in a wave of sobs and Tyrion Lannister feels panic coursing through his blood stream. "Jaime? Jaime! Gods be good, brother, Talk to me!"_

_"Tyrion." "Brienne. What's wrong. Are you with him? Is he okay? Gods, what just happened?" "He's fine. Physically at least. I need you to get to Baelor Blessed's hospital. Now. West wing, ICU." "What-?"_

_"Jon Arryn's gone to Robert. Cersei got knocked up pretty bad. Jaime's freaking out and the kids are terrified. I know you and Cersei don't really get along, but we really need you here. And now."_

 

By the time Stannis gathers his courage to go face her, Mel's on her fourth drink, and almost but not quite plastered. She recalls calling Beric, and hearing him swear loudly and pointedly. "Melisandre. I trust this was Oberyn's handiwork." "Yuh." She slurs at him. "Blind date, he said. Forget Stannis, he said. Well fuck him and Rh'llor take his head." "Wow. Didn't know your ex is a lightweight." Asha pipes up at Stannis's elbow. Mel cocks her head to look at the chit. "Well did ya know  _he's_ a teetotaller?" Asha raises her eyebrows at Stannis. Stannis ignores her.

"Mel, I think you need to get home. We could drop you off-" She waves her hand. "Nah. Beric's comin' he's prolly gun march in in a sec-" she's about to take another swig from her glass when Stannis wrenches it out of her hand. "Mel, that's enough." He says firmly. He can't bear look at her face. No. He loved her gods be good, he loved her. And he feared that thought that he might love her still. "Stannis-" Whatever he's about to say is interrupted by his phone. 

And that silly ringtone his children had convinced him to put on, last christmas.

_Incoming Call; T. Lannister_

"Lannister. I'm at the Reach. Can it not wait?" "No. Stannis, we have a problem."

Something cold trickles through Stannis's shirt. His head is completely focussed on the phone but dimly he recognizes some sort of commotion at the front door. His eyes register on Beric Dondarrion charging in like a war horse. 

"Jon Arryn's take the theory to Robert. He's gone fucking crazy." Stannis feels his heart stop. He can almost hear Davos and his children's voices underwater. A thousand years and a million miles away. 

"Cersei, she's knocked up pretty bad. We're at Baelor B's ICU, me Jaime and the kids. She's sort of in surgery. Stannis," Lannister pauses.

"He wants your children. He wants to take them and make them his heirs. Stannis... Stannis? Stannis are you alright? Gods be good, Stannis!?"

"Uncle Stannis?" It's Gendry. Tall blue eyed Gendry, the splitting image of Robert. He can't look though. Behind Gendry, he sees the rest of them; Mya, Edric, Shireen, Ashara, Varra. In the backdrop he registers Beric flying at Oberyn Martell, and Davos trying to stop the fight. He notices Asha somewhere, and the flash of Mel's red dress. But nothing registers.

_He's taking them. He's taking them away._

Blindly he pushes past Gendry and lets his feet take control. For once in his life, Stannis has no idea where he's going, what he's doing. He recalls the warmth of the Reach and the cold of the late february air. 

The next thing he knows, he's heading away from home at 60 mph, his hands and feet driving with no destination.

He doesn't stop for hours. And when he does, the first thing he notices is the smell of salt and sea. And old wood. And waves.

He doesn't need to see to know where he's come to.

Storm's End. Where all lives began.

Storm's End. 

Storm's End.


	20. I see fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things fall apart.

The ride back to Dragonstone is as quiet as it is melancholy. They've dropped off Mr. Martell at his flat (bloodied nose and all) and he really does seem apologetic. Shireen looks utterly miserable, and Varra's hiccuping out tiny sobs. Mya tries to calm her down. The boys are as sullen as they get. 

And Ashara... Ashara's as still as a graveyard on a winter's night. 

"You want me to stay over, princess?" Davos asks Mya as she herds them all into the Dragonstone house. She shakes her head. But he's Davos. And so comes in and helps himself to a cup of black coffee. "You c'n put the littlies ta bed eh, lass?" Mya nods mutely. Varra's already half asleep, and Shireen offers to sit with her til she does. Ashara sits next to her, ramrod straight and pale. Shireen puts a comforting arm around her. The boys pop in for a second, and then they're gone again.

 "He's not answering." Davos tells her when she comes to the kitchen. "That's not like him." She nods mutely. She's seen Uncle Stannis angry, she's seen him frustrated, and she's seen him sad... in his own peculiar way. But never like this. Her uncle was a rational man. A more rational man than she'd ever known. "He's beyond furious." She says, half to Davos but mostly to herself. 

"Aye. And it ain't yer fault, little lass." He pushes a mug of something into her hand. Hot choc? Braavosi coffee? She's not sure, even though she takes a sip. It tastes like ashes. "don't you worry." Says Davos. "He's Stannis. He'll come to." "Of course he will!" She snaps. "You don't think my Uncle would simply go nuts over a messed up date, right?" Davos smiles sadly. "Somehow, little lass, I think that date's the last thing on yeh Uncle's mind right now."

 

"Hey hey, don't you cry, little princess." Shireen softly strokes Varra's head. "It's all gonna be fine."  _Lie between your teeth,_ she thinks. Daddy was mad. "Uncle Stannis hates us." she whimpers. Shireen feels Shara stiffen at her side. "No, little princess, he doesn't."  _He loves us. Mother have mercy, please please don't let him be angry. Please daddy don't be mad. We only did it 'cause we love you. All of us._ _  
_

"You were right." Shara says softly. "He didn't want it. And we tried to make him do it." Shireen throws an arm over 'Shara's shoulder. "'s okay, shara. He'll come to. Soon." Shara hides her head in Shireen's arm. "And if he doesn't?" Shireen only tightens her arm around Ashara. "He will."

 

"Well." Edric looks back at Gendry, rising from his reverie at the window. "Well what?" Gendry snaps. He thinks of a thousand different ways to strangle Oberyn Martell. If Beric Dondarrion hasn't finished him off already. Seriously? Melisandre? Again? He sneaks a glance at Edric, who is silent, and wonders what he's thinking. Probably about that time she tried to burn him. Gendry shudders. 

_The attic is dark and full of terrors..._

Melisandre whispering in Uncle Stannis's ear. Melisandre, standing over Shireen's bed, staring at her like a creepy psycho. Melisandre and her Essosi pepper. Melisandre holding Uncle Stannis's hand on a bad day. Melisandre wanting him to call it quits with Douchebag B. 

She did love him. But loving Uncle Stannis, Gendry thought, was a package deal. It came with them. All six of them. 

And somehow, that must take a lot off Uncle Stannis and his appeal. 

Gendry sighs and watches as Edric absently straightens the books on his table. It was going to be a long night.

 

 

 

"Mr. Baratheon?" Doctors Qyburn and Pycelle look at the three (actually two and a half) men waiting in their office. One look at Jaime's face and Tyrion knows things are minutes from a major explosion. "Actually, it's Lannister. Tyrion," he hops off the seat and extends his hand coolly. "And this is my brother Jaime, and my father. I understand you've been operating on my sister, Cersei." He's infinitely calm as he talks his way through with the two doctors. Brienne's outside in the waiting room with Tommen and Cella, and he'd rather be there than here, but gods be good Jaime was shattered and father was as white as a sheet and someone had to take control of the situation.

Doctor Qyburn was not smiling. Tyrion takes that as a bad sign. "Mr. Lannister," he begins. "I'm afraid we do have news but it's not very good." He pauses. "Cersei, is alive, and thank the seven for it considering that her injury _is_  rather frightful. She's alive, as of now," he says reassuringly, cutting off Jaime's almost inhuman wail. "and stable. However, she's gone into a coma, Mr.s Lannister, and there is every chance that she mayn't wake up."

 

"Shush, Tommen, shush." Brienne coos into little Tommen's ear, rocking the little boy on her lap, as he hiccuped into the crook of her neck. "She'll be alright you'll see." She gives him a quick kiss. "Tommen breaks into fresh sobs again. Brienne tries not to sigh. Across the room, Myrcella's staring at a storybook. 

_Cella's dyslexic,_ she recalls Jaime saying.  _She finds it hard to read when she's under stress._ Strange how Jaime had told her little things like that. She hoped to god that Cersei would come through. Not out of love for the woman. But for Jaime. And the children. 

"Hey, Cella." She calls out softly to the girl. "Would you like me to read that for you?" Cella stares at her uncertainly, and slowly moves to the chair next to her. She glances at the cover of the book. "The Hedge knight." Brienne grins. "That was one of my favourites back when I was your age." She settles Tommen on to one side of her lap, and lets Cella wriggle closer. She does. Hesitatingly. Brienne feels a rush of pity for Tommen and Cella. What a sad and lonely life they must have lived. With parents who hated each other, an indifferent father and a deranged mother (who dotes too much on Joffrey, or so Tyrion said) and so many half siblings adding to the tension, even though Tommen and Cella barely knew them. 

They're in the middle of a Dunk and Egg adventure when Brienne's phone begins to shriek irritatingly, startling Tommen out of his sleep, and interrupting her reading. Brienne supresses a snarl as she stares at the screen.  _What the fuck, Renly?_

"Brie! I'm so sorry for calling you at the dead of the night!" Renly sounds frantic. Utterly frantic. "What is it Renly?"  _This had better not be something about your fucking wedding plans or how you've got cold feet over it. Go bugger Stannis._ "I'm kinda tied up at the moment." "Where are you?" "I'm at Blessed B's. In the waiting room." She clarifies. "With Tommen and Cella." There's a pause. "Tommen and Cella? Blessed B's? Brienne, what's going on?"

Brienne sighs. "I'm afraid I can't tell you, Renly. Tommen's on my lap and I really don't want him to hear what I'm going to say." Renly sucks in a gasp. "Is it Robert?" Renly demands. "Is he hurt, because help me God, Mya just called in to say that Stannis's gone MIA and I can't deal with worrying over another brother right now." Brienne raises her eyebrows. Stannis? MIA? Odd. That doesn't happen. Not ever. "No no. It's not Robert. It's Cersei." She says, soft as she can manage. 

"Cersei? Woah. Is she okay? Is Robert with her? And wait, you can't stand her, what the hell are you doing in the waiting room." 

"No to the first, no to the second and as for the third, she's Jaime's sister, and Jaime is currently having a meltdown of sorts." Renly is quiet. And she can hear him breathing down the phone line. Tommen starts to fidget. "Look, Ren. It's kind of a bad time right now, so..." "Yeah sure, I'll call you in the morning. Stannis isn't there is he?" "No." "'Kay. Bye. _Shit._ "  _Shit indeed,_ Brienne thinks. She'd rather not tell Renly the sordid details of the affair over the phone with Cersei Lannister's son on her lap. 

In fact, where  _was_ Robert Baratheon?

 

 "Sorry, I should have headed over sooner." Renly unzips his coat hurriedly as he enters the Dragonstone house. Mya sits at the table, pale and drawn. Davos is making their third pot of coffee. "Uncle Renly." 

"What the hell happened?" Mya shakes her head. "There was a ... date. The littlies set him up with one of their tutors and the Red Witch was there. At the Reach. And there was such a-" Mya gulps. "And now he's gone and he won't answer the phone." "We've tried everything, Renly." Davos says calmly. But Renly sees his hands shaking. "What can I do for you guys? I could go out to look for him, if you'd like. Me and Loras, we can do a search." Renly's feeling slightly more panicky than he did when he called Brie. "Should I call the cops?"

Davos looks to the distance. "Maybe... Best wait til morning. A bit. Just for all of us to clear our heads." He smiles shakily. 

Renly slumps on to the kitchen chair. "How's the rest of them?" 

"Varra's asleep. Edric's thinking, Gendry's sulking, Shara's feeling supremely guilty and Shireen's trying to handle damage control. So, not good, I'll say." "Ouch." "Ouch indeed. They're pretty much terrified, especially the littlies. I mean, that's just so not Uncle Stannis. He doesn't just walk out like that, does he?" Renly looks thoughtful. "Uncle Ren?"

"No, you wouldn't have seen him do that, no. Not since he brought you home. But back when I was a kid, he used to spend hours at mum and Dad's graves, or at the beach near Storm's End when he wanted to clear his head. It helped a lot once in a while. Stannis always had this creepy affinity to old Storm's End, goodness knows it's been shut up for a long while since I moved out and Uncle Cressen went over to Old Town. Used to say it made him feel good. Better, I mean. Like everything's gonna work out."

There's a silence round the table for a while. Davos stares at him. "Feel better?" He says. Renly nods. "Interesting." "What?"

"No, it's just that, Stannis looked as white as an old sail when he walked outta the Reach. I think he was on the phone with Lannister or something. Could have been bad news, you know." Renly frowns. "Lannister?" He asks. "That's odd. I expect Tyrion's at Blessed B's with Cersei. She's hurt." "Hurt?" "Yeah. Must be pretty bad for Brie to be there with the kids." Davos looks thoughtful. And suddenly the light bulb goes up in his eyes.

"Was Robert there?" "Nuh uh. He doesn't care for her, recall?" "Then why would Lannister call Stannis?" 

"Why indeed?"

 

"She's my sister, Brie. I can't let her go."

"You're not. You're not letting go."

"You don't get it. She may be guilty, but I do want to fight for her." "I understand."

"You hate her" "And I love you."

Jaime pauses and sharply sucks in a breath. Behind him, Brienne turns pale and her blue eyes widen with terror. 

"You... love... me?" "I didn't mean to say that, Jaime. Just forget it." 

"You love me."

"For what it's worth and I know it's worth nothing-"

"You love me."

"Yes, seven be damned, I DO! I love you, though I really shouldn't though you're just going to-Oomph!"

Brienne had expected a number of reactions. That kiss was not one of them.

"Gods be good, Wench. You have no idea how long I've wanted to say that to you." Jaime's bent over her, forehead to forehead, arms braced on her shoulders, and Tommen squished between them.

"I love you. And I'll always love you."

 

"Something's off." "We did just confirm that, Davos." 

"No. Something's really off." "Okay- oh, hang on, Uncle D, I need to get this call. Hello?"

The slurry voice on the other end of the line is one that Mya least wishes to hear.

"Whur's Stannis?" 

"Not here. Why aren't you with Cersei?"

"Get me Stannis." "He's not here." Mya turns to slam the phone down when Davos, takes it from her.  _Robert,_ she mouths at him. He frowns at the receiver.

"Yes, Robert. To what do we owe the pleasure."

He turns the speaker on, so that they can all hear.

"Stannis. Yeh got  t- unggh. Cersei- a whore. Fucking lying whore." "I believe we've established that." pipes up Renly. Mya nudges him.

"Joffrey, Tommen, Myrcella. Not mine. Not my kids." 

Silence. They try to conceal their shock. And fail.

Davos breaks the silence.

"And how does that concern us?"

"I'm taking ter bastards back. Eldest boy Gavin, Greg, whatever as m' heir. And t' rest. I'll take 'em back, so you c'n wash yer hands off 'em."

"Robert, you're drunk, Cersei's sick and I think you have no genetic evidence."

"Fuck you, Stannis! Jon said it was so. So that's how it is. Do you understand?!"

Davos drops the receiver and stares at Renly, who is holding a ashen faced Mya up. 

"Mya, love are you alright? Mya? Mya!"

She shakes and stares at the two of them.

"No." She whispers. "We can't. We can't leave." "Mya, I-" 

"Contact Uncle Stannis. I don't care how. He's not going to let them take Gendry and co. And don't tell the littlies. I'll talk to the boys."

"Too late for that." A voice says by the door.

And there they are. Both boys, and all three girls.

White faced, wide eyed and huddled close.


End file.
